Dragon Ball Z 1. For better or worse

**A/N: This story is the sequel to **_**You'll Be the Death of Me**_**, my "three year" BV get-together story. While it might be helpful here and there to have read that one first, it's not necessary. This story can stand alone. :)**

**I don't own DBZ nor do I make a profit from this. As always, I'm just doing this to have fun (and procrastinate, of course). Anyways, I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

All of Vegeta's hard work, all of his intense preparation, the hellish training that had damn near killed him to achieve the legendary Super Saiyan transformation… it had all been for nothing.

He had failed, and failed miserably.

The Saiyan prince had his eyes closed and his head down, his face buried against his forearm in deep shame, his arm resting on his raised knee. He was sitting alone in barren terrain that was eerily reminiscent of where he'd first battled Kakarot. He hadn't noticed the similarity until he descended from his flight and looked around, and all at once he'd lost the strength to stand. Now he was sitting there, hours after Gohan had destroyed Cell, wondering where everything had gone so wrong.

His pride had damn near been the downfall of the whole planet. He had let his pride overwhelm all logic, his arrogance in his power blinding him. In retrospect, he should have destroyed Cell when he had the chance instead of letting the villain achieve his perfect form. He had wrongly assumed that he was strong enough to handle Cell alone, only to be beaten down like he was an insignificant piece of garbage stuck on the bottom of Cell's foot.

Then, as if his pride hadn't been severely wounded already, he was reduced to a mere spectator, not able to do anything except stand by and watch while Kakarot's child fought the battle of a lifetime.

Denied his glory in battle, shamed beyond belief over needing Gohan to save his life, and now robbed of his chance to face his archrival one last time.

And then to top everything off, he hadn't even been strong enough to avenge his own son.

Vegeta clenched his fists tightly, squeezing his eyes shut at the thought of what he'd seen happen to Trunks. He'd denied the boy _so many times_, both the future teenaged version of his son, and the infant version as well. The baby was easy to ignore. The older version of Trunks, not so much. Vegeta had yelled at him, ignored, cursed and berated him. He'd even struck the teenager on more than a few occasions in the hope that Trunks would get the hint that he didn't give a shit about him. To Vegeta's ultimate frustration though, the boy was just as stubborn as he was.

Reflecting on it now, Vegeta concluded that it must have been when they trained together in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber that the teenager had finally worn down his defenses.

That year had been long and grueling. Trunks had kept his distance 85 percent of the time per his father's wishes, but the rare times when Vegeta had actually tolerated his conversation and company, Trunks had leapt at the opportunity to get to know him. It was usually when Vegeta was exhausted from training and had already called it a day, that he'd sit and listen with barely suppressed disdain as the teenager rambled on and on like a broken record. It definitely showed that Bulma had raised him alone, all right. The boy was cursed with her relentless persistence in his pursuit for some type of closure with him, which only made Vegeta burn with resentment. Here he was, barely coming to terms with the fact that he had a son at all, only to find himself forced to interact with the full-grown version of that son. It was too in-his-face, and he hated that. Those times when he allowed Trunks to converse with him always ended the same way: with Vegeta losing his temper and berating Trunks for something (oh, and he always found something), and then stalking away angrily and leaving the boy alone. His resentment and Trunks' persistence made for a horribly tense coexistence that usually left them both drowning in frustration with each other.

It wasn't until the last month that things started to change.

Vegeta had reached a new level in his Super Saiyan strength, and he wanted to test his new power in a battle situation. There was no one else there with him except Trunks, and so Vegeta reluctantly concluded that there was no other way except to spar with the boy. He could still picture Trunks' shocked face when he woke the boy up early one day and told him to meet him in ten minutes for a spar.

That spar quickly spiraled into an all-out brawl, a fierce and violent battle for survival that lasted almost an entire day. Vegeta held nothing back, and neither did Trunks, both of them unloading their frustrations on the other. They had practically mutilated each other that day, both of them bloody and broken messes after that fight, both barely able to stand when Vegeta finally said that was enough. The prince had barely managed to trudge to bed, where he'd passed out cold from exhaustion for two whole days while Trunks did the same. Vegeta woke up first, and immediately went to wake up his son so they could fight again.

That became their routine, and Trunks never once complained about it. Deep down, he was determined to earn his father's respect.

And earn it he did. Vegeta couldn't help but be impressed by the teenager. Still, decades of battle experience let him see the weaknesses in Trunks' technique. The prince taught his son how to remedy those weaknesses the only way he knew how: by viciously exploiting them and making Trunks pay dearly each time he slipped or his concentration lapsed. Trunks had gotten the message quickly and Vegeta had watched in approval as the boy never once repeated a mistake. There were even a few times when Trunks returned the favor, and Vegeta could only look at him in amazement as Trunks shot him a cocky smirk, before Vegeta would snarl and charge him to start it all over again.

Slowly, like true Saiyans, they had bonded – even if Vegeta hadn't realized it at the time.

It wasn't until Vegeta saw a lethal beam of energy impale Trunks' chest that he finally realized with painful clarity how much he truly did care about his son. It was horribly reminiscent of the brutal slaughter of his mother that had happened before his very eyes when he was only four years old. Only this was exponentially worse, which he never thought was possible until his son's death was unfolding right in front of him. All traces of sanity inside of him had died with Trunks, his survival instincts shot to hell as he charged Cell in a vengeful and blind rage that would have surely resulted in his death if Gohan hadn't intervened on his behalf.

The dust had settled now, and that rage had long since disappeared. Now the only thing Vegeta was left feeling was profound regret over the way he'd treated Trunks. The boy had only wanted his acknowledgement and Vegeta had been too proud to give him even that. Something so simple, so fucking _trivial, _and he hadn't thought it worth his time.

Not only had he failed miserably as a warrior and shamed himself on the battlefield, but he'd also failed as a father.

A roar of thunder brought Vegeta out of his thoughts. He raised his head from his arm, blinking wearily, for the first time realizing that it was raining. He squinted up at the dark night sky, watching as lightning cracked, letting the rain run down his face and through his hair. He didn't know much anymore, but he did know one thing.

For better or worse, things had to be different with his infant son. He refused to fail the child like he'd failed his teenaged son from the future.

That meant scratching his plans of leaving Earth. He couldn't take Trunks away to space with him. For one, the boy was far too young, nothing more than a cub. Not to mention, he had nowhere to go. The universe was large, empty, and cruel. Though Vegeta was more than capable of surviving on his own and even thriving in that cruelty, he couldn't drag his son into that. The teenaged version of Trunks had suffered enough in his dark timeline, and Vegeta thought it was high time to end the suffering.

Plus, Bulma was here, and his son wasn't going to grow up without his mother like he had.

Vegeta buried his face into his forearm again at the thought of the genius and beautiful heiress. She came with the deal as well, as unfortunate as that was for him. There was no way he could be a part of Trunks' life and not be a part of hers as well, which naturally begged the question:

Where did Bulma fit into this?

He refused to see her as anything other than the woman who bore him a son, but he couldn't just avoid her. What would she be to him then?

His partner?

His comrade?

His _friend?_

Ludicrous. Vegeta wasn't staying for her, he was staying for Trunks. She was just another person to deal with, like her parents. She would be nothing to him except an occasional reference for Trunks.

He sighed into his forearm, deep down wishing that beam from Cell had killed Krillin instead…

* * *

Trunks leaned back, eyeing Bulma warily. She wasn't exactly the same as his mother from his timeline, but damn if she wasn't equally as intimidating. Especially when she was wielding scissors in her hand like she currently was.

"I don't really think it's necessary, to be honest."

"What are you talking about? It makes you look so much older!" Bulma insisted, looking at the teenager's shoulder length lavender hair with critical eyes. "Come on, just sit down and I'll make this quick."

Trunks forced a smile, "Really, my hair is fine-"

"Now don't argue with your mother, Trunks."

"Well, alright…" Trunks finally conceded, slowly sitting down as Bulma lifted up some of the strands of his hair, trying to see where to begin the haircut. She much preferred his hair cut shorter, and figured that her future counterpart probably felt the same.

"So are you ready to go back home tomorrow?" Bulma asked, starting to snip his hair.

"Yeah, definitely. The androids shouldn't be a problem now, not after all the training I've done in this timeline," Trunks said, his eyes flicking over to the kitchen window next to him. It was pouring heavily outside, and he couldn't help but wonder where his father was. The rest of the day had already passed since Cell's defeat with no sign of the prince. Bulma's parents had already called it a night and the infant version of himself was tucked away in his crib, sound asleep.

As for himself, Trunks had decided to spend the night and leave in the morning in his time machine. He'd only ventured downstairs to get some water, only to find Bulma in the kitchen reading over a scientific magazine. The next thing he knew, she was eyeing his hair with a look he recognized all too well.

He knew from experience that there was no arguing with that look.

"Oh, I bet. You'll take them on, no sweat," Bulma told him with a smirk as she continued snipping away at his hair. "They won't even know what hit them."

Trunks smiled. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Bulma said, humming softly as she focused on her work. Trunks glanced out of the window again out of the corner of his eye.

"It's really late and it's pouring outside," he commented. "Where do you think my father is?"

Bulma sighed a little. "Who knows. Vegeta kind of comes and goes as he pleases. Plus he wasn't really living here the last couple months before the androids came. He was out on his own."

"Oh, I didn't know that."

"Yeah, but don't worry about him. I'm sure he's fine, wherever he is."

"I know, it's just, I kind of wish I could've talked to him about what happened today," Trunks said with a sigh of disappointment.

"What happened?" Bulma asked curiously.

The pride was ringing clear in Trunks' voice when he answered, "He defended me after Cell killed me. Yamcha said he went ballistic and attacked Cell head on. It almost got him killed, but he did it anyways."

Bulma stopped mid-snip, her blue eyes widening in shock. She blinked a few times in disbelief, wondering if she'd heard correctly. Finally, she found her voice again.

"Vegeta attacked Cell to avenge you?"

"Sure did."

She was speechless for a few seconds, digesting the information. Finally, a slow smile crept over Bulma's face, before she slowly shook her head.

"Well I'll be damned," she marveled softly. It turned out Vegeta did care about their son after all, just like she'd always suspected. But to have it confirmed in such a dramatic way was beyond surprising. Vegeta's reaction could have easily cost him his life, and Bulma knew that the man was a survivor through and through. He always put himself first before anyone. As always with Vegeta, though, his actions spoke louder than his words, and he had spoken loud and clear today.

That man never ceased to surprise her sometimes.

Bulma slowly continued cutting Trunks' hair, her mind solely on the proud Saiyan prince. She suppressed the hope that was struggling to rise in her, the voice saying maybe Vegeta would want to stay on Earth instead of leaving like he'd always sworn he'd do. After all, if he cared about their son from the future, why wouldn't he care about the present day version of their son?

She didn't want to get her hopes up though. Knowing him, he could easily say that his attachment to Trunks had nearly gotten him killed. It could have given him the ammunition he needed to leave Earth forever just as easily as it could have enticed him to stay.

Still. She took a quick glance out the window when lightning flashed across the night sky, and easily made up her mind.

If Vegeta came back to Capsule Corp, she was going to try her damndest to make sure he stayed at Capsule Corp.

* * *

It was past three in the morning when Vegeta finally flew back to Capsule Corp. It was still pouring, and he was completely drenched, but he barely noticed. The earlier battle was finally catching up to him; his body was hurting, and there was a dull ache in his head left over from Cell viciously striking him down. Add in the emotional toll the day had taken on him and his lack of sleep in the days leading up to the Cell Games, and it was taking almost all his energy to fly.

All Vegeta wanted was to just fall into bed and sleep for days.

Hell, maybe weeks.

Vegeta landed awkwardly on the windowsill of his old bedroom. He grasped the windowpane to get his balance, and then slowly opened the window and climbed inside. He'd barely gotten his second foot in when a lamp turned on in the room. Vegeta flinched back in shock, not realizing someone was already in the room.

He cursed under his breath; how fucking out of it was he that he hadn't sensed anyone there?

Squinting, he looked at the lavender haired teenager who was slowly sitting up in his bed and rubbing his bleary eyes.

Trunks looked at his father, then at the time on the digital clock next to the bed, then back to his father. He had gotten used to waking up on Vegeta's approach from their hellish sparring sessions in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, and this time had been no exception. The lighting from the lamp was dim, which he was thankful for, because he was wearing an embarrassed blush.

"I'm sorry, Father," he said sheepishly, tossing his blankets aside to get up. "The room I was in last time was painted and so my mom said to pick out any other one, and I thought this was just a spare room. I didn't know it was yours…"

Vegeta stared at Trunks through his rambling, not hearing a word the kid was saying. All he could process was the relief at seeing him alive. He gratefully allowed the sight of Trunks in front of him to replace the last image he had of him, hoping it would curb the nightmares to come in the next few days. It wasn't until Trunks started to get up that the prince realized what he was saying.

"It's fine," Vegeta said gruffly, giving a dismissive wave with his hand. "You can stay here."

"Oh," Trunks said, blinking in surprise, sitting back on the bed. Vegeta had one hand against the windowpane as he leaned against it. He looked worse for wear, and it made Trunks hesitate. "Are you sure? I mean, it's your-"

"What did I say, boy?" Vegeta demanded harshly, and Trunks' mouth snapped shut. He just betrayed a nod, and Vegeta instantly felt ashamed. Old habits died hard, he supposed. He sighed and briefly closed his eyes, before adding, "Don't worry about it. I'll go somewhere else."

"Alright."

Vegeta looked away and trudged over to the door, not wanting to go back outside into that rain. Trunks watched him for a few seconds, wanting to ask him about what had happened earlier, but finally decided that it probably wasn't a good idea. He laid back down and stared up at the ceiling, crossing his arms behind his head.

"Trunks."

Trunks blinked and looked over at his father who was standing at the door. He propped himself up on his elbow. "Yeah?"

Vegeta stared at him for a while, before looking away. He cleared his throat, hoping he didn't look as uncomfortable as he felt.

"You fought well."

Trunks stared at Vegeta blankly, part of him wondering if he was actually asleep and dreaming this. Finally, a huge smile spread over his face, even though Vegeta didn't see it.

"Thanks, Dad."

Vegeta tensed at the use of the different, more endearing title, but he only gave a heavy nod. He slowly walked out of the room and closed the door behind him, not giving the kid another look. The prince raised his forearm to his brow to wipe it dry, but his uniform was soaked which defeated the purpose.

Suddenly sensing someone moving, he glanced to the right, squinting down the hallway as he tried to place the ki.

Bulma. Vegeta cocked his head to the side curiously, wondering why she was up at this hour.

When his sensitive hearing picked up on their infant son wailing, he got his answer.

"Shhh, it's alright little guy," Bulma whispered tiredly, placing Trunks on the changing table in his room while he continued crying. "I know, you don't like being dirty. You're a clean little boy, aren't you? Yes you are," she cooed as she started changing him. She wanted her son to stay little as long as possible, but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't looking forward to him outgrowing diapers.

Bulma yawned, and then choked on that yawn when she heard a familiar gruff voice behind her say, "What's wrong with him?"

Bulma looked over her shoulder in shock, not having heard him come in. Vegeta was standing right behind her, and the first thought through her mind was that he looked like complete hell. He was still dressed in his Saiyan armor, but it was dirty from the earlier fight and soaking wet from the rain. His left eye was badly bloodshot, and there was visible bruising already forming on the left side of his jaw.

"Vegeta," Bulma breathed out, her blue eyes instinctively sweeping over his battered frame. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he growled. Truth was he was anything but fine, but it had nothing to do with how he felt physically. Bulma looked at him disbelievingly for a second before turning back to her still screaming son.

"Trunks is fine, his diaper is just dirty and it always wakes him up, that's all," Bulma explained, her hands moving expertly as she changed him. "Hopefully he won't be in them for too much longer."

She was met with silence from the Saiyan standing behind her, and gratefully, Trunks also started to quiet down. Vegeta hung back and watched her change the baby, scowling at the scene.

There was a third wheel here, and it was him. He didn't belong in this picture and felt horribly out of place just being in the same room with them. This wasn't his nature at all, and yet, he didn't want to leave. He closed his eyes, wondering if the blow Cell landed after his failed assault had done more than temporarily knock him out – maybe it had knocked some of his brains out too.

"Vegeta?"

Bulma's soft, comforting voice felt like it floated over to him. He forced his eyes open with visible effort to see that she was now holding a sniffing, sleepy Trunks against her. Her blue eyes, shining in the dim lit room, were solely trained on him. He couldn't help but briefly wonder how it was that her eyes were always so bright.

"Why don't you go get some sleep? You look exhausted," she whispered to him, studying him with concern. He looked completely out of it.

Vegeta was about to defensively snap that he was fine, but he faltered at the last moment. The day had been draining on him, and he didn't want to fight with Bulma. It wasn't worth it. Not tonight anyways.

"The older version of the kid is in my room," he finally grumbled in annoyance.

"Oh," Bulma said softly in realization, rubbing the baby's back soothingly to lull him back to sleep. "Well, you can still crash in any other guest room we have. Plus, Trunks is heading back home to his timeline tomorrow, so you'll have your room back."

Vegeta just grunted. That was fine by him. As fond as he was of the older version of his son, there were one too many _versions _for his taste.

Bulma gave him a lingering look before turning to the crib. She gently pulled Trunks away from her and laid him back down. The baby turned onto his side, eyes closed and one thumb going into his mouth. Bulma grabbed his blanket and was putting it over him when Vegeta slowly came up next to her so he could see.

She continued on uninterrupted, trying not to show her surprise and excitement over Vegeta's sudden interest in their son, but it was very difficult. Vegeta had barely even glanced the baby's way since the first time he laid eyes on him. In fact, the Saiyan had developed a remarkable ability to completely ignore the baby as if he didn't exist at all.

But now here he was, standing next to her and gazing down into the crib at the little boy inside it. Bulma snuck him a look, her earlier concern coming back at the distant way Vegeta was looking at Trunks.

"Hey, are you sure you're okay?" she whispered, reaching out and touching his arm. She winced when she felt how cold he was after being out in the rain for so long. When he didn't flinch from the contact, she started rubbing his arm gently through his uniform in a friendly gesture of support. She'd never seen him look so distraught and defeated, and it didn't sit right with her at all.

Vegeta stayed silent for a long time, not drawing away from her touch. He was too drained to fight it.

"You raised him alone."

"What?"

"In the future. You raised Trunks alone."

Bulma tilted her head a little, observing his profile as she read between the lines, trying to decipher what he was really saying.

"I raised him alone because you died in that timeline. I had no choice, Vegeta." When he stayed silent, she added, "It doesn't mean that I didn't need you. I'm sure I did. Hell, I need you now. Things could be different in our timeline, you know."

He hesitated. "I don't…"

…_know how to be a father…_

…_think I can actually do this… _

…_want him to hate me…_

Vegeta's jaw set stubbornly, his pride not allowing him to voice any of those thoughts, but he couldn't help but think of the future version of Trunks. He'd grown up to be a good kid and a strong warrior, and Bulma had raised him alone. She could say what she wanted, but Vegeta saw the results which spoke volumes. She had done an outstanding job once before. She no doubt could do the same in this timeline with their son.

"You don't what?" Bulma asked, resisting the urge to prod and press him, even though his lapses of silence were killing her. She wasn't a patient woman, but if experience had taught her anything, it was that patience was a necessity when dealing with the prince.

"Bah. Forget it," Vegeta grumbled, pulling his arm away from her.

He gave Trunks a fleeting glance before turning around to leave, almost tempted to look into the provisions on the space capsule after all, when Bulma stepped in front of him and put a hand on the chest plate of his armor. Vegeta stopped immediately and looked up, making eye contact with her.

"Don't go, Vegeta," she pleaded, studying his eyes closely, pinning him to the spot with her gaze.

His eyes narrowed at her words. Somehow, he knew that the message ran deeper than just leaving Trunks' room.

"I'll go wherever I want, human," he growled dangerously. "I don't take orders from you, and don't you ever fucking forget it."

Bulma bit her bottom lip, seeing that defensive anger sparking in his dark eyes. The walls were being put up in a hurry, walls that he put up for years to keep his emotions bottled up inside. He wanted to shut her out, but this time, she wasn't going to let him.

"Trunks told me what happened today," she whispered, and Vegeta's eyes widened in shock. His mouth moved as he struggled for words, but he couldn't deny it. He snapped his mouth shut, a hard scowl coming over his features. He glared at her angrily as she continued, "I think what you did was very brave."

"Foolish woman, you have no idea what you're talking about," Vegeta hissed, his face reddening in shame. He couldn't believe the brat had run his mouth to Bulma! Now she knew that he had failed to avenge his son, as if he needed that information spread. Would this humiliating day ever fucking end?

"Do you regret it?"

Vegeta blinked, before considering her words for a few seconds. Finally, he scowled and lowered his head in defeat. The question took the fight right out of him with its simplicity. His only regret was that he hadn't been _strong enough. _So much of his life was spent searching for power and strength, and when he needed to have it, he had come up short.

He shook his head silently.

"There's nothing wrong with caring about your son," Bulma told him gently, trying to make eye contact with him. "Stay with us, Vegeta. Your son needs you."

He shook his head again before squeezing his eyes shut, the motion making him dizzy. He wanted to stay, he did, but he was just so out of his element here. He reached up and gingerly massaged one of his temples to ease the throbbing ache in his head.

"…I do wish to stay," he reluctantly admitted, missing Bulma's smile of relief over those simple words. "But…"

Her smile faltered a little. "But what?"

Vegeta's face reddened even more as he continued massaging his temple, his eyes still tightly closed. As close as Bulma was standing to him, she had to practically lean into him to hear his quiet words as he spoke.

"I've hated my father since the last time I saw him, up until this very moment. He gave me away, knowing full well what Frieza would do to me. He was weak. A coward. And he is the only fucking example I have on how to do this…"

Vegeta frowned and shifted his gloved hand over so he could rub his eyes, which were suddenly burning for no good reason. He stopped when he felt Bulma's soft hand settle on his. She lowered his hand but he looked away, too ashamed to look her in the eye.

"Trunks won't hate you," Bulma told him, her tone full of conviction.

He scoffed bitterly. "You don't know that."

"I do know that, because I won't let him."

Vegeta looked back at her, his look a mixture of confusion and amazement. Instinctively, he searched the blue of her eyes thoroughly, looking for any subtle form of mocking or insult. He knew before he began that he wouldn't find any, and when his thought was confirmed, he could only nod numbly in acceptance.

"I know it's daunting," Bulma said patiently, trying to soothe that self-doubt that was dulling his eyes. "Trust me, I had no idea what I was doing the first few months. Hell, sometimes I still don't think I'm cut out to be a mother. But we'll help each other out, okay? Like a team. Maybe even take turns changing diapers," she joked lightly, knowing that _that _would never happen.

"You are so utterly absurd," Vegeta grumbled, shaking his head in disgust.

"So… you're staying then?"

He raised an eyebrow at her hopeful tone, before looking away and nodding.

"Thanks, Vegeta."

"Whatever, woman. This is only for the boy, not you," he growled. "So don't you go getting any ideas," he added with a scowl as he reached up to massage his temple again.

"Come on, let's find you a room," she told him, eyeing him with concern. "I'll get you some aspirin and you can get some sleep. You look like hell."

"Fine," Vegeta relented. He might have picked a fight with her any other night, but sleep sounded damn good right about then.

As he followed her out of the boy's room, he admitted to himself that Bulma had set him a little more at ease about this whole thing. He still had a plethora of doubt about whether he was doing the right thing by staying and whether he could actually be a decent father, but he knew that he'd rather live with the nagging doubt than the sure regret if he left.

The thought that offered Vegeta some comfort was that he wasn't alone in this parenting thing. Bulma was there, and not only was she there, but she had already been running this ship a while now. She knew what to do, and that took some pressure off his shoulders.

She also hadn't laughed at him or mocked him when he opened up to her, and he had _never _opened up to someone the way he just had with her. His usual protocol was to isolate himself and mull over his thoughts in silence. Hell, he'd done that very thing practically all day.

But if there was anyone he could open up to… he supposed it was Bulma. Maybe he trusted her far more than he thought.

Well, either that, or Cell hit him way harder than he thought.

With the way his head was hurting, he was leaning towards the latter.

"Alright, you can crash in here," Bulma said, walking into an empty guest room and flicking on the light. Vegeta flinched at the sudden light and squinted behind her, but didn't make a sound of complaint as she went into the adjacent bathroom to make sure he had what he needed. He turned the light back off when she disappeared from sight.

"Oh, Vegeta, before I forget!" she called out as she opened a drawer. There were a slew of medications and bandages there, and she started digging for some aspirin. "Did you want to see Trunks off tomorrow?"

"What are you talking about now?" he demanded irritably.

"Trunks is going back to his timeline tomorrow. I told you that earlier," Bulma said with a frown, coming out of the bathroom with some Tylenol for him.

She blinked when she saw that he had turned off the light. Not even bothering to get undressed, Vegeta was lying in bed over the blankets on his back, his eyes closed. She walked over and took advantage of the moment to look him over. Aside from the bruising near his jaw, he seemed okay. Not sure if he had fallen asleep already, Bulma reached to him and patted his chest plate. She was rewarded with a low growl, before Vegeta lifted one arm and draped it over his eyes.

"Get lost, woman," he sneered.

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Vegeta, I know you're spent, but take a couple of these. They'll make you feel better and then you can get some sleep."

"Not hearing your annoying voice would make me feel better," he said dryly.

"Ugh, whatever then," Bulma snapped in exasperation. She put the pills on the nightstand next to his bed. "So that's a no to Trunks then?"

Vegeta grunted, before muttering, "Wake me before the kid goes."

"Okay," she said with a smile. "Good night, Vegeta."

Bulma got no response, and gave him one last lingering look before leaving him in peace.

Neither the late hour nor Vegeta's irritation could rid the smile from her face though. Not only was the Earth safe now, but Vegeta had made it out in one piece – and he was here to stay. Granted, he wasn't staying for her sake, but it still made her happy to know that Trunks would grow up knowing his father in this timeline. She had been ready to raise their son alone, but she was relieved that she wouldn't have to anymore.

And, of course, she had her own selfish reasons for wanting Vegeta to stick around. Her feelings for him hadn't died over time, and so she couldn't help the excitement of knowing that he was going to be living under the same roof again. She had sorely missed his presence and his company, as rough as it was sometimes.

Oh yes. Things were definitely looking up.


	2. Birthday bash

Unfortunately, change didn't happen overnight.

Bulma had to remind herself on a daily basis to have patience with him, but it was difficult, to say the least. She had assumed that Vegeta was going to start actively seeking out opportunities to be close to Trunks more often, but she couldn't have been more wrong.

After their son from the future had departed for his timeline, Vegeta had become withdrawn, even for him. He didn't join them for meals, choosing to take his food upstairs to his room instead so he could be in peace. On the rare occasions when she actually ran into him, he would barely spare her a glance before turning around and walking away without a word. It made little difference if Trunks was with her or not.

It also didn't give Bulma any reassurance that he hadn't stepped foot in the gravity room since Cell's defeat. Sometimes, she'd spot him standing outside, staring down the gravity chamber while lost in his own thoughts. She found herself hoping to see him go in and train, just so he'd be back to doing _something_. But he never did, either going back to his room or taking off into the air, flying off to who knew where. She hated when he took off like that; she couldn't help the worry that always gnawed in her stomach that he'd finally convinced himself to leave for good. He always came back though, and after a while, that worry finally started to go away.

Four weeks came and went with little change, until finally, a very special day was on the horizon: Trunks' first birthday. Bulma and her mother worked together and planned a big party for him, and all the details were just about set. Now Bulma just had one last detail to take care of, one that she'd saved for last:

Making sure her son's father was there.

Vegeta was lying in bed, his arms crossed behind his head as he stared listlessly at the ceiling. It was a position he was getting far too comfortable in, but he found that he didn't much care. The only other thing he'd done with regularity on Earth was train vigorously, but there was nothing to train for now. Not anymore.

He was admittedly having a very hard time dealing with that fact.

In many ways, Vegeta was a single-minded man. Once he set a goal, he had tunnel vision and focused all of his energies into getting what he wanted. And, up until now, he always had something to strive for: revenge against Frieza, immortality granted by the Dragon Balls, ascending into the state of the Legendary, revenge against Kakarot, and finally, the ultimate goal: reclaiming his destiny and becoming ruler and emperor of the universe. It had always been so black and white. Either he would achieve that elusive goal, or he would die trying. There had never been anything else that was worth his time.

But now, he had nothing. His life was empty. He had no one to defeat, no goals to strive for, nothing to look forward to. He was a man without a map to guide him through life, stuck on a planet he'd rather destroy than live on. And to top it off, he couldn't even really do the one thing that he was staying for: be close to his son. The boy was an infant, and Vegeta knew absolutely nothing about infants. So he simply stayed away, letting the woman handle their son while he tried figuring out what the hell he was supposed to do with himself now.

He was brought out of his thoughts when he heard soft knocking on his door. He didn't bother looking over, already knowing who it was.

"Vegeta? Are you awake?"

"No," he answered. Bulma cracked the door open and looked in. Vegeta sighed. "What do you want, woman?"

Bulma stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She leaned back against it and looked him over for a bit. He was lying in bed over the covers, only wearing a loose pair of sweat pants. She sucked at her top teeth, wishing she could read his mind. His eyes were distant, and she didn't like it. She didn't like it at all.

"Is everything okay?" she finally asked him. "I haven't really seen you arou-"

"If that's what you came to ask, then leave," he interrupted with a growl. He wasn't in the mood for it tonight.

"Well, actually, I wanted to tell you that we're having a party tomorrow for Trunks," she told him, crossing her arms and observing him carefully. "And I'd really like it if you were there."

"I don't do _parties,_" he said snidely.

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Yes, I know, Mr. Antisocial. However, it's Trunks' first birthday on Sunday, and it deserves a party."

Vegeta turned his head and looked over at her with a frown. "It's his what?"

"It's his birthday. He was born a year ago this Sunday," Bulma explained to him patiently.

"And you're having a celebration for that?" he asked with a snort. "The brat won't even remember it when he's older."

"So? It'll still be fun," she said, smiling with excitement for the bash she was going to throw for her little boy. "All our employees are coming with their kids, and we're going to have a clown come, and there will be games-"

"Fuck that shit. I'm not going."

He turned to stare at the ceiling again as Bulma's smile melted into a glare. Her patience with him now gone, she stalked up to his bed and leaned over until she was right in his line of sight. Vegeta kept his face neutral, but he did swallow a little when he saw the look she was giving him. The woman was practically towering over him, looking fiercely intimidating.

"Now you listen to me, you stubborn jackass. This is Trunks' first birthday and all I'm asking you to do is walk your ass downstairs and stuff your face with some food and cake. Now I don't know what's got you in this funk you're in, but you are going to BE there for your son's birthday party! Do you hear me?"

Stunned, Vegeta could only blink up at her in astonishment. It had been a long time since he'd allowed her to speak to him in such a manner, that he'd almost forgotten that she wasn't afraid to tell him exactly what she was thinking.

"Well? Am I clear?" she demanded, breaking the silence. He snapped out of it, his dark eyes focusing before narrowing dangerously. Whereas the intense glare he was aiming right at her would have terrified most people, deep down, Bulma was just relieved to see that distant look finally gone from his eyes.

He bared his teeth a little in warning before angrily spitting out, "Woman, I am not some fucking mongrel pet that you can order around to your every whim-"

Bulma reached down and poked him on his bare chest. His muscles immediately flexed in response to her touch, and he briefly forgot what he was saying.

"You _will_ be there, or else."

Vegeta, who was scowling at her finger, looked up at her words. He raised an eyebrow in mock curiosity.

"Or else _what_? You'll bore me to death?" he asked sarcastically.

"Oh, I'll think of something, don't you worry," she told him, withdrawing her finger. He relaxed as soon as she did, though it wasn't by much when he saw a look in her blue eyes that he recognized very well. It was the look of someone who was plotting something that meant bad things for him. Bulma straightened and put her hands on her hips.

"Now the party starts at 3 tomorrow, and it'll go for a few hours. I'll see you there, your highness."

Vegeta sneered at her, his intense gaze following her as she walked out of his room. He growled and got up shortly afterwards, walking over to the door. He closed it and locked it for good measure.

The nerve of that woman, to come into his personal quarters and demand such ludicrous things from him. Did he look like the type of man who went to stupid human festivities? And what the hell was the point in throwing a celebration for a child so young anyways? He might've understood if the boy was older, but as far as Vegeta was concerned, Trunks was a cub who might as well have been born yesterday. The boy couldn't even walk yet!

He climbed back into bed, this time lying down on his side as he glared at the wall angrily. Sleep was very slow to come, but right before it did, he resolved that he wasn't going to such an absurd event.

* * *

Vegeta's resolve crumbled when he smelled cakes baking early the next morning. The smell was rich in the air as he walked into the kitchen, and almost immediately, he started to salivate. He observed the fancy new oven in the Briefs' large kitchen, and could see four large cakes baking through the glass. He looked up at the timer above the oven to make sure that he was gone before it went off, so he wouldn't have to deal with whoever was baking the cakes. He went about his usual morning routine, taking glances over at the oven as he did. Damn, those cakes smelled good.

Maybe he'd stop by for just a few minutes during the party, and steal a cake back to his room just for himself… or, if he hung around, he could maybe swipe one before the party started. Yes, that would be better. Then he wouldn't have to go to the stupid thing.

Suddenly, his sensitive hearing picked up on Bulma approaching with Trunks in tow. He frowned and looked at the coffee machine that was still brewing away. Briefly, he contemplated leaving, but it was almost ready. He could stand their company for a little bit while he waited for his coffee to be made.

"Are you excited, baby?" Bulma asked with a smile. The little boy looked up at her. "Today is your birthday party! My big boy is growing up so fast-"

"Baba," Trunks interrupted, not caring at all for his mother's rambling.

Bulma laughed, "Yes, I'll get you your morning bottle. So impatient, just like your father." Looking almost satisfied with her answer, Trunks put his thumb in his mouth and leaned against her as she walked into the kitchen.

Bulma blinked in surprise when she saw Vegeta already there. He was leaning against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest and looking annoyed. He didn't look at them as they entered, choosing to continue staring off to the side, through the window.

"Good morning, Vegeta," Bulma told him brightly, happy that he didn't turn and immediately leave. The prince stayed silent, ignoring her as she walked over to Trunks' high chair. Trunks took a look at his father curiously, studying him. Feeling his son's eyes on him, Vegeta looked over at the little boy, raising an eyebrow with equal curiosity. Trunks immediately buried his face shyly into his mother's blouse. Vegeta scowled and looked off to the side again, his arms angrily tightening over his chest.

"It's okay, you don't have to be shy around Daddy," Bulma told Trunks soothingly as she peeled the little boy off her to put him in his high chair. She took a glance over at Vegeta, and saw how tense the Saiyan was. "He's still getting used to you, Vegeta. He'll get comfortable around you, don't worry."

Vegeta scoffed. "Who the hell said I was worried?" He then turned around and gave them both his back, so she wouldn't see his spreading blush of embarrassment over the fact that she had practically read his mind. Bulma looked at him in exasperation before Trunks cut in.

"Baba," he said firmly, drawing his mother's attention. Scowling at her, he pointed right to the fridge.

"Please," she told him just as firmly.

"Peeeeese," he repeated, giving her a smile that he was quickly learning melted his mother. Bulma sighed and headed over to the fridge. She opened the door and looked over at the prince standing a few feet to her left. She raised an eyebrow when she saw what he was doing.

"Since when do you drink coffee?" she asked in surprise as he poured himself out a cup. She didn't know what shocked her more: that he was doing such an ordinary, human act, or that he was actually doing it for himself and not demanding someone to make his coffee for him.

Vegeta frowned, not looking at her as he focused on what he was doing. "Your father put one of these contraptions in the space capsule when I left Earth to train. I got used to it."

"Oh, I see," she said, looking at him thoughtfully for a moment before turning back to the fridge. She took out a ready-made bottle for Trunks and closed the door. "So have you made your plan of escape yet to avoid the party this afternoon?" she asked him teasingly as she handed Trunks his bottle. He snatched it and began to chug his milk down greedily.

"Hn," Vegeta grunted, putting the coffee pot back into place. He picked up his coffee mug and turned around, and Bulma thought he was going to leave. Instead, he leaned back against the counter and took a drink of his coffee, black and hot without any creamer or sugar mixed in. He looked over at the cakes as he lowered his mug. "I still think this celebration is absurd," he informed her.

"Oh come on, it'll be fun! All the kids will have a blast," Bulma said happily, taking a seat next to Trunks' high chair. "And there'll be lots of food and drinks for the adults, enough even to satiate you."

"Whatever," he grumbled, chugging down his coffee in one shot to Bulma's astonishment. He put the mug down on the counter and turned to leave, before doing an almost comical double-take when he read Trunks' shirt. He stared at it for a couple of seconds, then turned his now furious gaze directly to Bulma. "Woman, what is the boy wearing?" he demanded.

"What? What's wrong with it?" Bulma asked defensively, looking at Trunks' baby blue shirt that read "If You Think I'm Cute, You Should See My Daddy".

"It's indecent. Take it off him at once!" Vegeta ordered.

"What are you talking about? It's not indecent, it's freaking adorable," Bulma argued. She looked back at Vegeta, and he immediately tensed when he saw her blue eyes darken a little, and it wasn't out of anger. She gave him a thorough and flirtatious once-over. "Besides. It's not like it's a lie, you know."

Vegeta's face turned red as he glared at her, but before he could respond, Bunny strolled into the kitchen. As if on cue, the oven beeped.

"Good morning, lovelies! Today is going to be such a wonderful day!" Bunny giggled excitedly, stopping on her way to the oven to kiss Trunks on top of his head. Vegeta turned and immediately started his retreat back upstairs to his room when Bulma called out to him.

"We'll see you later today, right, Vegeta?"

He stopped for a second at the entrance to the kitchen, his back to them. Bunny chose this exact moment to open the oven door, flooding the kitchen with a delicious aroma that made Vegeta's stomach growl. He frowned, before figuring he'd show up to the party for a few minutes. Just long enough to get Bulma off his back, and get his hands on some of that cake.

"Perhaps," he finally grumbled, before stalking out of the kitchen.

"Oh, how wonderful! Vegeta will be joining us for Trunks' party!" Bunny said excitedly, pulling out a perfect cake from the oven while Trunks watched with wide eyes. "See, dear? I told you it wouldn't take very long to bake the cakes for the party. And you wanted me to get started early," she giggled as she placed the cake on top of the stove. "How silly."

"Yes, how silly of me," Bulma said with a mischievous smirk, looking over in the direction Vegeta had walked off in. She looked at her little boy and leaned in close to him, drawing his attention. "Your mom's a genius, Trunks," she whispered to him, before leaning in all the way and kissing his forehead. With that, she stood up and glanced over at her mother. "I'm going to start getting everything ready. You have Trunks, Mom?"

"Of course, sweetheart. I always have time for my favorite grandson!"

"You mean your only grandson."

"That's why he's my favorite," Bunny told her daughter with a wink. "Unless, you want to give me another, that is…"

Bulma laughed out loud. "Don't hold your breath on _that _one!"

* * *

This was hell. How or when he'd died, he wasn't quite sure. But there was no other explanation for what he was seeing. He had died, and gone back to hell - and it was worse than the first time.

Vegeta's right eye was twitching rhythmically as he surveyed the backyard with disdain. There were humans everywhere, practically the entire staff of Capsule Corp, along with a slew of other business clients and partners that Bulma had invited. And they _all _had children. Little brats darting across the yard, some bawling their eyes out while their mothers tried soothing them. Vegeta flinched in shock as a balloon exploded next to him, instinctively raising a glowing hand out to the source with a growl. He glared daggers at a little two-year-old boy who had been squeezing the balloon. The boy looked utterly stunned that the thing had exploded, and when he looked up to see a furious Saiyan glaring down at him, he immediately burst into tears.

The Saiyan Prince made a hasty retreat away from the boy when he saw a woman rushing over. He'd seen Bulma's temper when it came to Trunks on a couple of occasions now, and he had no interest in dealing with another woman's maternal rage. Dealing with Bulma's was quite enough for his taste. He immediately placed where his son's mother was, and made his way over to her. He was so focused on getting over to the heiress, that his left ankle was nearly destroyed by a little three-year-old girl slamming a remote-controlled car into it. Vegeta cursed, spun around, and angrily slammed his black boot down on the car, crushing it to pieces. He sneered at the little girl, who promptly burst into tears.

This time, he couldn't escape the raving mother that made a beeline straight towards him. The woman scooped up her daughter and gave Vegeta a furious look.

"Look at what you did! You broke one of Trunks' birthday toys!" she yelled at him.

"Well what the fuck was your brat doing playing with one of my son's toys anyways?" he yelled back at her. Several parents gasped in shock at his profanity, some covering their children's ears. Vegeta clenched his right fist tightly, his ki growing with his rage as he glared at the woman in front of him. "Now get the hell out of my way, before I use my Galick Gun and do what I should have done the first time I landed on this miserable mudball plan-"

"Vegeta!" Bulma yelled, stepping in between them. She gave the woman an apologetic look, "I'm sorry Lori, he didn't mean to scare your daughter, it was an accident. Don't worry about the car either."

Vegeta snorted, shifting his gaze from Bulma to the woman behind her. He sneered at her threateningly over Bulma, "Like hell it was an accident-"

Bulma grabbed him by the hand and roughly hauled him away from everyone, catching him off guard. He allowed it for a little bit, just to put distance between himself and that crazy woman and her daughter, before he angrily pulled his arm free. Bulma took a look around, but everyone else was back to mingling together. There were too many screaming kids for everyone's attention to linger on them. Finally, the heiress turned to the prince in front of her and put her hands on her hips.

"You need to watch that temper, buddy," she told him sternly as she stared him down. "I won't have anyone being fried during my son's birthday party."

Vegeta waved an arm back behind him in frustration as he defensively spat out, "That little brat rammed a-"

"They do things like that sometimes. They're kids, Vegeta."

"They're grotesque, loud, obnoxious creatures," he growled angrily.

"Is that what you think of Trunks?" Bulma challenged, her eyes narrowing as she dared him to answer the question.

"Of course not, you foolish woman! My son has my blood. He is far superior to these other mongrels," Vegeta scoffed, before looking away angrily and crossing his arms over his chest. It was a cocky and self-righteous response, but hearing him actually speaking about their son in a positive way was enough to take the edge off Bulma's temper. She looked him over thoughtfully. He was there, and she wasn't about to drive him away.

"Come on, you," she finally told him, giving him a small smile. He looked back at her with a frown, raising an eyebrow suspiciously at her change in tone. "Let's get you something to eat. You must be hungry."

He hesitated only a second. Indeed, he hadn't eaten all day. "Fine. Whatever."

Bulma's smile spread into her dazzling and brilliant smile, and Vegeta felt his residual anger dissipate in his chest. When she turned and walked away, he couldn't help but follow her. He also couldn't help his eyes roaming over the back of her casual, snug, green summer dress. Her figure hadn't changed much after having Trunks, much to his delight.

He ran a hand down over his face, stubbornly reminding himself that those days were over. Done and dead, buried in the past. He had no interest in starting _anything _back up with this woman.

"Take a seat there. I'll get you a plate," Bulma told him, gesturing next to a large picnic table spread where there was a lone, comfortable-looking lawn chair. Unfortunately, Trunks was right in front of the chair, using it as support to stand up as he tried inching his way over to the table. Vegeta looked at him for a few seconds with a scowl, before looking at Bulma.

"The boy is there. Move him so I can sit," he ordered.

Bulma looked over at her son, and then looked back at Vegeta. She raised a challenging eyebrow at him. "Move him yourself," she told him smugly, before turning and heading over to fix up a plate of food for the prince. Vegeta glared at her from behind, before looking over at Trunks. He took a deep breath, and then marched over while Bulma nonchalantly watched out of the corner of her eye.

Trunks had been playing with the other kids for about an hour, but then he'd caught the smell of his grandmother's delicious cooking. Wearing a determined look over his young features, one bottle in his hand, he focused on the task of inching his way closer to the food.

"Move, boy. You're in my way," a rough voice said.

Trunks was startled, almost dropping his bottle. He looked over his shoulder and gawked up at Vegeta in surprise. The prince frowned down at him, before motioning with his head for the boy to move. He didn't. Vegeta growled impatiently and reached down, grabbing Trunks by the back of his t-shirt and lifting him that way. He then sat down, swung Trunks over the side of the armrest of his chair, and dropped him. Trunks landed sitting on his diaper in the grass, blinking in surprise. No one had ever handled him in such a manner. He looked up at his father with tear-filled eyes and a quivering bottom lip, a look that always worked on his mother and his grandparents.

Vegeta, however, was not his mother or his grandparents. The prince snorted in disgust at the sight of his son's tears, and looked away, glancing over at Bulma as she prepared him a plate of food while she laughed with a coworker. Trunks just stared blankly at him with wide eyes, completely stunned that his tears were being blatantly ignored. He was more than a little spoiled, and he wasn't used to this kind of reaction. With a scowl, the little boy tossed his bottle aside and shifted over so he was on his hands and knees. He then slowly pushed himself until he was standing. He wobbled a little bit, but he didn't fall. He had walked for the first time a few days ago, but was quickly getting the hang of it.

Vegeta briefly looked over at his son waddling over to him, and then looked back at Bulma as he waited impatiently for his food. The prince then did a double-take for the second time that day, his eyes widening as he looked at the little boy that was now standing in front of him. Trunks gripped tight handfuls of Vegeta's jeans and stared up at him with an angry scowl.

"Here you go," Bulma said, handing Vegeta a large plate overflowing with food. The prince took the plate, but not without giving her an angry glare.

"Woman, why didn't you inform me that this boy could walk?" he demanded.

"Well, you've been kind of keeping to yourself. When was I supposed to tell you?"

"Hn," Vegeta grunted, turning to look back at his son with an unreadable expression. He noted that Bulma had changed his shirt. Trunks was now wearing a white t-shirt that said "Birthday Boy!" on it in big blue letters. That was much better, Vegeta decided. Picking up his fork, the prince lowered his eyes to his food and gruffly said, "Well it's about damn time the boy learned to do something by himself. Now where the hell are those cakes your mother made?"

"We're not cutting those for a little longer," Bulma said, before looking down at Trunks who was eyeing Vegeta's plate. She looked at Vegeta with a teasing smirk, "Looks like someone wants to share with you."

Vegeta looked over at Trunks who was still gripping his jeans. He grunted, "_You _feed the boy, woman. You're his mother. That's your job."

"I have to go greet some guests," Bulma said, a sparkle in her blue eyes.

Vegeta's head snapped up. "Woman," he growled in warning, not wanting her to leave him alone with Trunks. Bulma though was already heading off, a huge, smug smirk on her face. Vegeta gaped at her from behind, not believing what had just happened. She had just left him, of all people, alone with a child. Was she mad? Who in their right mind would do such a thing?

He looked at his son with serious eyes. "Your mother is the most infuriating woman on the planet," he snarled.

"No," Trunks said firmly.

Vegeta raised an eyebrow. "No?"

"Mama gee-nus."

"Whatever, kid," the prince hissed in frustration. Damn demon woman had brainwashed his son.

Trunks eagerly pointed at Vegeta's plate, his appetite pushing his shyness around the Saiyan to the background. "Food?"

"No. This is my plate."

"Peeeese?"

"No. Get lost, kid."

"_Peeeeeeeese?_"

Vegeta's eye twitched. At a loss for what to do, he picked up a barbecue chicken leg and handed it to Trunks. "There," he grumbled. "Now go away."

Trunks smiled and took the chicken leg from his father. He then plopped down on the grass and immediately went to town on it. He got barbecue sauce all over his face, his hands, and his previously pristine white t-shirt. Vegeta stared at him with disgust, before shaking his head and sighing. He looked down at his plate and began eating, brooding to himself that this day just could not get any worse.

"Vegeta," a terse voice greeted.

Vegeta bit completely through the plastic fork in his mouth. He'd been wrong. Things were now worse. He reached into his mouth and pulled out the fork pieces, before swallowing his food. He then turned to glare at the man who had just arrived at the party.

"Ah, the woman did mention there would be clowns," he said dryly.

"Whatever," Yamcha said evenly, holding a huge box under his right arm. It was wrapped in green gift-wrapped paper. "I'm not here for you. I'm here for Trunks."

"How noble," Vegeta sneered at him right as Bulma came back over to them.

"Oh hey, you made it," she told Yamcha with a smile. Vegeta took a deep breath, disgust and something else creeping up through his chest as he watched Bulma interact with Yamcha. Angrily, he reached for another fork, which was thankfully at the edge of the table.

"Yeah, I wouldn't miss Trunks' birthday party," Yamcha said with a smile, patting the gift under his arm. "I brought the goods."

"Thanks, Yamcha. We'll see if it's one of the lucky winners. Trunks is only keeping three toys, and the rest are going to charity," Bulma explained to him, before pointing over to where there was a huge pile of gifts. "You can put it over there."

"Sure thing," Yamcha said, before smiling down at Trunks. He bent down a little, "Hey little guy, how are you doing? You're getting big, huh? Already one! Wow!"

Vegeta kept his eyes down, driving his fork into his food a little harder than necessary. His patience was a thin thread about to snap.

"Hey guys!" Krillin's voice sounded out as he entered the Briefs' backyard, Android 18 following closely behind him.

That did it.

"Enough of this," Vegeta snarled, standing up with his plate of food. Fuck the cakes; he was not mingling with these fools. Everyone looked over at him in surprise, but Vegeta only locked eyes with Bulma. "I made my _appearance_, woman, and now I'm leaving for saner grounds."

"Vegeta-" she started, but he was already walking away.

Yamcha snorted, watching the retreating Saiyan with disgust. "Of course he can't stay for his son's birthday party. That's something only a real father would do."

"Yamcha!" Bulma chastised, her blue eyes igniting angrily.

Vegeta heard his words and immediately froze. Tension ripped down the Saiyan's back and he instinctively squared his shoulders, before he slowly turned around. The plate in his hand was quickly cracking from the increasing force he was gripping it with as he gave Yamcha a level and cold glare.

"What did you say, weakling?" Vegeta asked, his voice dangerously calm.

Bulma saw where this was going and stepped between them, not wanting them to start something with so many people there. She looked at Yamcha pointedly, and he shrank back a little at her look. "If you're only going to be here to antagonize Vegeta, then you can turn around and leave, you understand me?" She then shot her gaze over at Vegeta, who glared back at her. "And _you _can leave if you want, but if you're going to stay, then you are going to behave and not pick fights with anyone. Am I clear?"

The tension was thick in the air, with Bulma and Vegeta staring a hole through each other in a silent standoff, neither aware of much else except each other. Finally, a muscle in Vegeta's jaw flexed, and he turned around and walked away without a word. Bulma sighed as she watched him leave, before turning her attention to Krillin and Android 18 who were approaching. She gave them a smile.

"Hey guys, thanks so much for coming," she said politely, though she looked at Android 18 a little warily. The cool blonde just looked back at her with unreadable eyes.

"Sure, we wouldn't miss it," Krillin chuckled, before looking down at Trunks. "Wow! Someone was hungry," he laughed, looking at the barbecue sauce that was all over Trunks now. Bulma smiled and shook her head at the sight of her little boy. She scooped him up, taking the chicken leg away from him, much to his displeasure.

"Excuse me guys, I'm gonna go clean him up real quick," she told them, before walking off with Trunks held out at arm's length.

"So," Krillin said, looking over at Yamcha. "What did we miss?"

Yamcha snorted and rolled his eyes. "Vegeta being a jackass, as usual. Can't even do something as simple as stick around for his own son's party. Man, what a jerk."

Krillin chuckled. "Well, you know Vegeta."

"None of you fools _know _me, baldy," the prince snarled dangerously from behind them. They all looked over at him in shock, except for Android 18, who looked unsurprised to see him there.

Vegeta had gone and thrown his plate out into the garbage, before deciding that he wasn't leaving after all. Yamcha's words had given him all the ammunition that he needed to stay. He was a man of pride, and he wasn't going to give this moron an excuse to judge him as a father. Sure, he wasn't father of the year, and would probably never be. But if it was so goddamned important that he stay, then he was going to stay. Plus, he found a cooler full of beer on his way over to the nearest garbage bin. He was carrying it now in his arms. He was going to need every last one if he was going to keep from blowing everyone there to pieces.

He walked around them and took a seat on his original lawn chair, before opening up the cooler. He pulled out a fresh bottle of beer while Yamcha frowned at him. Vegeta ripped off the top of the beer bottle with his teeth, before spitting it in Yamcha's direction. He gave him a sneer before tilting his head back and chugging his beer down all in one shot. Krillin grabbed Yamcha's arm as the man advanced angrily on Vegeta, and shook his head at him.

"Come on, Yamcha. Let's go put our gifts for Trunks with the rest," Krillin said with his usual good nature. Yamcha glared at Vegeta before reluctantly walking away with Krillin and Android 18.

Vegeta was on his fourth beer by the time Bulma came back with a clean Trunks. This time, the little boy was waddling in front of her, not wanting to be carried anymore. She glanced up at Vegeta, who had his feet up on the cooler, ankles crossed and looking extremely relaxed. She blinked in surprise as she approached him.

"Hey, you stayed."

Slightly buzzed, Vegeta looked over at her. "Just staying for the cake," he said with an indifferent shrug.

"Whatever you say," Bulma said disbelievingly, smirking a little, before observing the empty beer bottles at his side. "Just take it easy with the drinks, alright?"

He scoffed. "Woman, I've had stronger. Your planet isn't the only one that makes these kinds of beverages."

Bulma rolled her eyes, before motioning for someone to come over to get some food. She turned back to Vegeta, "Chi-Chi and Gohan are here."

"Terrific," Vegeta said dryly, looking over as he saw them approaching. He quickly finished his beer, before putting it aside. Moving his feet off the cooler, he opened it and pulled out a fresh bottle.

"Hey, Vegeta," Gohan said with an easy smile.

Vegeta just grunted as he closed the cooler and leaned back, kicking his feet up again.

"Chi-Chi has some great news," Bulma said as Chi-Chi came up to them. "Don't you, Chi?"

Chi-Chi smiled widely, looking over at the prince. "I'm three months pregnant!" she announced proudly.

"Isn't that wonderful, Vegeta?" Bulma asked him excitedly.

Vegeta stared at Chi-Chi blankly, before lowering his gaze to her stomach. Yes, it was true. He could feel the child's ki already. Distinctly masculine, and already powerful. There was no doubt. He cast a glance over at Gohan, who had already moved over to the picnic table which Bulma's mother was now working hard to keep full with the Z-fighters there. Vegeta observed the boy carefully. The kid was already stronger than him, and he was barely an adolescent. It didn't escape Vegeta's attention that mixing human and Saiyan blood made for fierce warriors. He'd already caught glimpses of Trunks' incredible potential, both with the infant version of his son and the future version. Looking back at Chi-Chi's stomach, he scowled. He couldn't do much about Gohan, but he was going to make damn sure that Trunks was stronger than Kakarot's second spawn.

Finally, he grunted. "Hn. To be perfectly honest, I'm surprised that idiot Kakarot even knew where to put his di-"

"Vegeta," Bulma hissed, cutting him off as Chi-Chi's face burned red.

"Bah. Whatever," he snorted, taking several large chugs of his beer.

"Sorry, Chi-Chi," Bulma apologized, before leading her friend over to get some food and away from the Saiyan who was losing his filter by the minute.

Krillin didn't get that warning though. He was walking past some time later, dodging kids left and right, when Vegeta called out to him.

"Hey, baldy! Come here," Vegeta ordered. Krillin looked over at him, and visibly hesitated. Vegeta snarled at him, "You better get your short bald ass over here before I return the favor from Namek-"

"Alright, I'm coming," Krillin relented, heading over to Vegeta. The prince was now on his eighth beer, more than he'd ever had on Earth. He was looking more relaxed than Krillin had ever seen him. "What is it, Vegeta?"

"Why'd you bring the toaster?"

Krillin blinked at him. "What?"

"The blonde toaster."

Krillin's face turned a bright red. "You mean 18?"

"Yes. Why is she here at my son's party?"

"We're on a date."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow. "What is a _date_?"

Krillin looked caught off guard by the question, having to actually remind himself that Vegeta wasn't from his planet. He'd gotten so used to the Saiyan being around, that he just seemed like one of them now. Not to mention that Vegeta was dressed extremely casually, in just a white polo and dark blue jeans. Krillin glanced over at Bulma, who was chatting away with Chi-Chi in excitement over Chi-Chi's pregnancy. He didn't know the circumstances revolving around Trunks' birth, but by Vegeta's question, it obviously hadn't been a typical courtship.

"Well, it's basically when you go out with a girl you really like so you can get to know her better. Then you can see if you have anything in common, and if you hit it off a few times, then you can get together."

"So, basically, you want to fuck her." Krillin blinked at Vegeta in shock, his face turning a deeper shade of red than before. He sputtered for words, but Vegeta's abrasiveness was not something he was accustomed to. The prince snorted at his response. "Why not just ask her and avoid this foolish _date _business?"

"Vegeta, I like her. It's not just about, well, you know…" Krillin said, shifting uncomfortably. Talking about relationships and sex with Vegeta was _not _how he envisioned his afternoon going.

"Oh, be a man, baldy!" Vegeta suddenly yelled at him, startling Krillin half to death. The prince motioned for the compound with his head, "There are lots of empty guest rooms upstairs-"

"Hey guys, what's going on upstairs?" Bulma cut in, looking over at Vegeta studiously.

"Baldy wants to fuck the toaster-"

"I think I'm gonna go play with the kids now," Krillin said, chuckling nervously, his face still red from embarrassment. He glanced around to make sure that 18 wasn't around, before scurrying off to go find her. He had to make sure she didn't get near the Saiyan, or he would be completely mortified.

Bulma walked over calmly to Vegeta's side, putting a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her with slightly bleary eyes, not flinching from the contact.

"Can I have some of that?" she asked him, motioning for the bottle of beer in his hand.

The prince snorted. "Get your own, woman."

Oh yeah, she could hear it in his voice now. Strategically, Bulma ran her hand up his shoulder to the back of his neck in a soothing motion. She then started gently massaging the back of his neck, watching as he stared straight ahead, blinking slowly and lazily from the contact. She knew his body heat intimately well, and could feel how elevated it was right now from the alcohol. It was probably best to put a stop to it now.

"Please?" she asked him kindly.

Without a word, he handed her the bottle. She took it from him and put it aside, before letting her hand run back down his shoulder and his arm, to his hand.

"Come on. It's time for some cake," she told him, taking his hand in hers.

"Bout time," he muttered, slowly getting up to his feet. He blinked a little, finally starting to feel the effects of his drinking. He allowed Bulma to lead him over to where everyone was gathered, frowning as he walked behind her in silence. There was a question on his tongue, but he couldn't think of what it was.

The prince tried his hardest to pay attention to this weird ritual that was happening with the cakes. There were candles, and everyone was surrounding the cakes and his son, and chanting some weird song. It was like a cult thing to him. He felt highly uncomfortable, but Bulma hung in the back with him, letting her parents be in the middle of everything with Trunks.

Without even realizing what he was doing, Vegeta squeezed Bulma's hand. The heiress snuck him a look, and smiled at him. She interlaced their fingers together before squeezing his hand back.

"Thanks for being here, Vegeta."

He looked over at her with a look she couldn't read. Damn it. What did he want to ask her? Finally, he shrugged, though it was mostly out of frustration as he turned his eyes back on what was happening.

"Whatever."

The rest of the afternoon passed by in a blur to him. There was cake, and it tasted just as good as it smelled. But he didn't enjoy it as much as he thought he would, watching instead as Bulma moved around and played hostess. He was vaguely aware of Gohan sitting down next to him at some point, but when the boy abruptly left with his face coated crimson red, Vegeta could only assume his mouth had slipped again.

Finally, everyone had left. Trunks had crashed and crashed hard after his day of excitement, and was now sound asleep upstairs in his crib. Bulma's parents were cleaning here and there, though they had cleaning bots dashing across the yard, doing most of the work for them. Bulma herself was putting away the leftover food in the fridge, humming to herself happily over everything going relatively smoothly.

She turned around and was going to get the last batch of food, when Vegeta was suddenly in her face. She squeaked in surprise and backed up right into the fridge, nearly falling in since the door was still open. He hadn't even been in the kitchen a second ago!

"Vegeta?" she asked hesitantly as he got close to her, trapping her. His dark eyes were now focused and narrowed in concentration as he stared into her eyes, searching them thoroughly. She swallowed from how close he was. "Are you alright?"

He continued staring at her with an intensity that was making Bulma weak in the knees. Finally, his lip twitched, and he spat out the question that had been burning up inside of him for some time now. The question his pride refused to let him ask, the question that was bubbling up now that the alcohol had loosened up his hold on that same pride.

"Did you do anything with him?"

She blinked at him in surprise, before wondering if he had more to drink than she thought.

"What?"

He drew closer to her. "Did you do anything with him?" he repeated.

"What are you talking about?"

"When I left to train in space. You and scarface." Bulma's eyes widened in realization, before she laughed. He frowned when he heard it. "Well, did you?" he hissed angrily.

"No, I didn't. Nothing happened between us. Why?"

Vegeta continued searching her blue eyes for any sign of a lie, for what felt like a very long time. Finally, he backed away, and then turned to give her his back as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"If there is nothing going on with you two, then why is he always here?" he growled.

"We're just friends, Vegeta." She cocked her head to the side curiously. "Are you… are you _jealous _of him?" she asked in disbelief.

He snorted. "I am not jealous of that fool. I just wanted to know why he's always around like some rodent."

"Well, he was helpful during my pregnancy, and he's been a good friend. There's nothing more to it than that."

"I don't like him."

"You don't say?" Bulma asked sarcastically, before laughing a little. She reached over to him and put a hand on his lower back, feeling him immediately stiffen at her touch. "Don't worry. I won't invite him to _everything. _Just the really big things. Okay?"

He looked over his shoulder at her for a few seconds, before grunting. He gave her a brief nod in acceptance and then walked away from her, heading out of the kitchen to go crash in his room. His head was starting to hurt. The day had been long and draining, but strangely rewarding. Though he'd never admit it, part of him, a deep and central part of him, had been oddly satisfied by the day.

Maybe, just maybe, his life wasn't so empty after all.


	3. Channel surfing

"_It pains me to see you like this, Vegeta. I don't know why, but I still care for you enough to put you out of your misery…"_

Soaked in sweat, Vegeta woke up with a start, sitting straight up in bed. He immediately backed up until his back was against the wall, swallowing hard, his mind and his heart both racing. Slowly, the blue grass and green sky in his mind disappeared, and only the darkness of his bedroom greeted him. He took a deep breath to still his nerves, before removing the sheet covering him with a shaking hand. Cursing quietly, he sat on the edge of his bed and squinted at the time. It was barely past midnight. He frowned at the digital clock, before rubbing at his eyes impatiently.

What he would give to get just a few days of uninterrupted, peaceful sleep. When he was a boy, his fear that someone would make an attempt on his life while he slept kept him awake days at a time. Once he was an adolescent and his senses were honed enough to wake him upon someone's approach, he'd already seen so much violence and mayhem that the nightmares began. Vegeta was sure that aside from the regular beatings that were borderline torture sessions he had to endure, his chronic sleep deprivation was a big reason why his growth had been stunted. Just another scar that Frieza left him with, he bitterly brooded.

Tonight was looking to be one of those long and sleepless nights, which was bad timing. His head was still hurting from his drinking excursion at Trunks' party. He was hardly a stranger to alcoholic drinks; in between his missions for Frieza and on his rare downtime, he and his Saiyan comrades had frequented quite their share of taverns across the universe. How had Raditz once put it? "Good drinking, good fucking, good killing." Vegeta snorted at the memory, a small smirk creeping up on his face. Oh, the ribbing Nappa and Raditz would give him now if they saw how easily the drinks at Trunks' party had affected him. Lowering his hand from his eyes, Vegeta's smirk disappeared as he surveyed the darkness and emptiness of his room, something very akin to loneliness in his dark eyes. He wouldn't admit it, especially since Nappa had died at his hand, but he missed them sometimes.

The prince slowly stood up and rubbed the back of his neck, figuring he'd go take a hot shower so he could relax. And he did just that, staying in the shower for almost half an hour, the water scalding hot. It soothed his tension a little and washed away the bad taste in his mouth leftover from his too-vivid recollection of Frieza beating him to death on Namek. It did nothing for his headache though. Agitated, frustrated, and tired, Vegeta decided he'd roam the compound a little, just to give himself something to do. His room was way too empty for his liking. He dwelled too much while he was in there.

Meanwhile, Bulma was in the darkened living room, sitting crosslegged on the sofa. She was a little tired, but that was an afterthought as she was currently engrossed in a romance flick on TV. She had a pint of chocolate ice cream in her hands that she was snacking on, and was all in all enjoying her downtime from her motherly and businesswoman duties. She was so absorbed in her movie, in fact, that she didn't even notice Vegeta's appearance, even when he was standing just a few feet away.

The prince frowned as he looked at her, before glancing over at the TV. He wasn't totally foreign to the concept of live shows, like news broadcasts. That made sense to him. The crap Bulma was watching now made zero sense though. Humans acting, pretending to be something they weren't, while millions of other humans stared at their black boxes, captivated by their fake stories. It was the weirdest thing to him. He regarded the TV now with both disgust and disdain. On the screen, a man and a woman were sharing a passionate kiss while trying to undress each other at the same time.

He opened his mouth to ask what the hell was this shit that she was watching, when Bulma finally noticed his presence. However, it was dark, and he was just out of the range of the television light. Bulma just saw a black silhouette of a man. Thinking it was an intruder, she shrieked. Before Vegeta could even blink, Bulma flung her spoon right at his head with strength that he had no idea she had. He got his hand up and caught the spoon on pure reflexes, but damn if she didn't almost hit him.

"What the hell is wrong with you, you stupid woman?" he growled at her, tempted to throw the spoon back at her. At the sound of his gruff voice, Bulma visibly relaxed for a second, before glaring angrily at the still black silhouette she was seeing.

"Goddamn it, Vegeta!" she hissed at him, taking a deep breath to bring her racing heartbeat to normal levels. "You have GOT to stop sneaking up on me! You're going to give me a heart attack!"

He snorted. "Don't blame me if you have zero sense of awareness. I was standing here, you were just too engrossed in the television set to notice."

Bulma huffed, before reaching her hand out to him. "Whatever. Can I have my spoon back, please?"

"You mean the weapon you just tried to decapitate me with?" Vegeta sneered at her.

"Oh, don't be such a drama queen," she told him with a roll of her eyes, making his eyes widen in shock at her audacity. He was a prince, not a queen! Before he could even form a rebuttal though, she continued, "I thought you were a burglar or something, coming to rob and kill me, or kidnap me and hold me for ransom, or-"

"Trust me, woman. _No one_ would last with you."

Bulma blinked at him in surprise for a few seconds. Finally, a brilliant and lovestruck smile spread over her face. "Aw, Vegeta," she practically swooned. "You really think I'm that tough? That's such a nice thing to s-"

"I meant, no one would last holding you for ransom, without slaughtering you to save their sanity after being subjected to your screeching, annoying voice." Bulma's smile immediately vanished, until she was glaring daggers at him. Vegeta couldn't help the smirk that came over his face as he continued, "You would deserve to die, too, what with your pathetic defense consisting only of a kitchen utensil."

"Yeah, yeah. You know you would find me and save me," she told him smugly. "I'm not dying so long as you're around. You're like my personal, Saiyan security system."

"Care to place a wager on that?" he asked in a low, dangerous voice, finally stepping into the light of the TV. Bulma bit her bottom lip at the sight of him, her eyes roaming over his delicious muscular frame. He was only wearing loose black shorts, a white drawstring hanging in front which was seriously tempting her hands. She raised her eyes back up to his and gave him a smile.

"Maybe another time," she told him teasingly, unfazed by the danger the man before her was constantly exuding. In fact, if she was being honest with herself, she found Vegeta's dangerous appeal to be downright sexy. She reached her hand out to him. "So can I have my spoon back? I'd like to get back to my movie, you know."

He scowled, looking her over. She was dressed in an oversized t-shirt that left him unable to see if she was wearing any shorts underneath it. Not that he cared, he stubbornly reminded himself. Going over to her, he handed her back the spoon, forcing his eyes not to linger on her legs. He ran a hand down his face as he turned away, debating if he should continue his late-night prowling through the compound, or go back to his room and try to sleep again. He was tired, but he knew that sleep would be hard to come by after his nightmare, and it made his earlier frustration return with a vengeance.

"Want to join me, dear prince?"

Vegeta blinked in surprise. _That_ certainly hadn't been an option he had considered. He turned back to her to see that she was patting the sofa next to her in invitation.

He snorted in disgust. "Why, so I could have my brain disintegrated by that garbage you're watching?"

"Hey, it's not garbage, buddy," Bulma said, frowning at him. "It's romance."

"Same shit."

"Oh, aren't you Prince Charming," she said with a roll of her eyes. She lifted up the remote at her side so he could see it, giving him a small smile. "The movie is almost over. Then you could be king of the remote. And I'll even share some of my ice cream with you if you stick around. What do you say?"

Vegeta hesitated, thinking his options over. After only a few seconds, though, the decision became very easy. He couldn't sleep anyways, and his mind was restless tonight. Plus, he wasn't opposed to some company. Sure, Bulma wasn't one of his Saiyan comrades, but she was the only person he could think of whose company he could stand. And on the flip side of that coin, was the decisive factor:

She was the only one who could stand his.

"…What kind of ice cream?" he finally asked, walking over to take a seat as Bulma's smile spread until she was practically beaming. This wasn't how she had expected her evening to go, but she wasn't about to complain.

"Chocolate, of course," she told him as he sat down on the opposite end of the sofa. Just close enough so if they both reached out to each other, she could hand him the ice cream, but still far enough so that she couldn't touch him. "It's the best. Better than everything. Even sex," she told him playfully.

Vegeta gave her a sideways glance, frowning a little as he wondered if that was a veiled insult.

"You _must_ be talking about your inadequate sex life with that scarfaced moron," he said gruffly, eyeing her carefully. Bulma smirked and shrugged half-heartedly, staying silent. Vegeta practically snarled at her lack of response, "Woman, don't you fucking dare insinuate that some edible item ranks above my-"

"Hush, you," she said, waving her spoon absent-mindedly at him as she once again became enraptured by the movie on TV.

"Don't tell me to hush-!"

"Shhh! This is the best part!" Bulma gushed. Vegeta gave her a glare that would have shot fear down the spines of hardened warriors, before looking over at the TV. He raised an eyebrow at the scene that was playing. More strange, idiotic human rituals he didn't understand.

"What the hell are they doing?" he demanded, trying not to let his confusion creep into his voice.

Bulma waited for the scene to play out, before settling back in satisfaction. She looked over at him with a patient smile. "They're getting married."

"Oh. _That_," he said with a disgusted snort.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Bulma asked, her smile turning into a look that was a mixture of confusion and disappointment. Vegeta briefly looked at her out of the corner of his eye, frowning at her tone. "You don't ever want to get married?"

"Saiyans do not marry. Saiyans mate," he told her bluntly.

"What does that consist of?" Bulma asked him curiously. He turned and gave her an annoyed sneer, and she saw the impatience in his eyes escalating like a time bomb. Right as he was about to unload on her, she offered him the pint of ice cream. Almost at once, the harsh edge left his dark eyes as his gaze dropped to the peace offering. He grunted and took the pint, with the spoon inside of it. In return, he humored her with a response.

"To mate is to create a bond between a man and a woman. The bond is unbreakable once made. The ultimate commitment. You can only mate once. No flimsy, whimsical attachments like your race is so fond of," he said with a snort, raising the spoon to his mouth for a taste. The chocolate ice cream was pretty damn good, he had to admit, suddenly eating it ravenously.

Still. It wasn't better than sex. Then again, what was?

"Oh, that's so romantic!" Bulma gushed. He rolled his eyes and continued devouring his ice cream. "How do you create a bond?" she asked him, eager to learn about his culture.

"The man bites his woman on the neck to mark her as his, and then drinks her blood," he stated, glancing over at her with a smirk. At the look of horror and repulsion on Bulma's face, Vegeta threw his head back and laughed loudly.

It was then that it dawned on Bulma that he was just joking with her. She gave him a glare, "You're an ass. Give me back my goddamned ice cream."

"Only if you change the marriage shit-fest on the television set."

"Fine," she sighed. She had seen the movie before after all. Plus, it was almost over. She handed him the remote, which he took. However, he made no move to give her the ice cream back. "Well?" she finally prompted him, her blue eyes boring into him.

"Well what?" he asked, surveying the remove in his hand and looking over all the commands on it.

"Give me back my ice cream, you jerk!"

He smirked, his eyes still on the remote. Finally, he pointed the remote at the television and started cycling through the channels. Reaching out to her, he handed her back the pint of ice cream.

Except it was empty.

"Vegeta! This was almost full when I gave it to you!" Bulma yelled indignantly.

He gave an indifferent shrug, and then had to quickly get a hand up so he wouldn't get hit with the empty pint carton that was launched at his head.

Without even thinking about what he was doing, he grabbed the carton and threw it back at her.

Bulma immediately launched the pillow cushion next to her right at him.

Vegeta threw it right back at her, hitting her in the face.

Bulma threw her spoon at his head.

Vegeta blasted it before it reached him. He flashed her a maddening smirk.

Bulma grabbed the cushion again and instead of throwing it, she wielded it like a weapon right at his head.

Vegeta got a hand up and effortlessly shoved both the cushion and Bulma back over to the other end of the sofa. At this point, he was dangerously close to laughter.

"Weak little human," he told her mockingly, his challenging dark eyes locked on her burning blue ones. "You can't do anything to m-"

Bulma then pounced on him.

Immediately, he let go of the remote, his hands going to her waist in an instinctive move to steady her so she wouldn't fall. Vegeta scowled, leaning back, his head now on the armrest of the sofa with his body awkwardly half on, half off the sofa. Bulma flicked her hair back over her shoulder, and Vegeta swallowed heavily at the sight. It was a simple gesture, but it very quickly ignited a fire inside of him that he recognized all too well. When she looked down at him with a playful smile, Vegeta was mesmerized.

"Oh, can't I?" she asked him teasingly, leaning down into him. He grunted absent-mindedly, his eyes briefly dropping to her lips before going back up to her eyes.

"These days are over, woman," he told her gruffly, scowling at her. "We are not coupling again. _Ever_."

Bulma put her hands on his bare shoulders, and he swallowed again, making no move to get her off him despite his words. She gave him a look that was almost evil. He raised a wary eyebrow.

"_Well_," she said, her tone downright seductive. She had her own satisfied smirk on her face as she sensually trailed her index finger on his upper lip. Vegeta let out a shaky breath. "You sure don't seem to mind this."

"…I am clearly still intoxicated," he grumbled.

"Oh, I know. I mean, we _did _have wild, hot sex earlier after Trunks' party-"

"We WHAT?" Vegeta shouted, his eyes widening with shock, his face burning red. Bulma laughed out loud, and his eyes narrowed when he realized her game. "Not funny, woman," he growled. He then tossed her back to the other end of the sofa. Bulma was still in a fit of laughter over his reaction as he angrily stood up.

"Oh, your face," she wheezed while he glared at her. "Oh man. Where's a camera when you need one?"

"One day, I will destroy this planet, and_ you _will be the first to go," he sneered at her, before walking back the way he came. Bulma's hand shot out though and grabbed his arm when he walked in front of her, stopping him in his tracks.

"Oh, don't be like that, Vegeta," she told him, still laughing when he shot his angry gaze over to her. "I was just kidding. Don't get all mad."

"Hn," he grunted, his lip twitching in annoyance, his eyes studying her intently. Honestly, he just wanted to go take a cold shower, but he couldn't look away from her as she gave him a kind smile.

"Stick around. We'll watch whatever you want. I'll get us something to drink," she said with a wink, standing up without waiting for his response.

Vegeta glared at her back as she walked off to the kitchen, before cursing under his breath. Frowning, he reached up and massaged his temple, his earlier headache coming back. He was almost taken aback to realize that it had receded to the background while he was with Bulma. Their banter had finally made him stop dwelling on things out of his control, things that were creeping back into his mind now that he was alone again. Lowering his hand, he sighed and went back over to his end of the sofa. He plopped down in defeat, picking up the fallen remote. Might as well see what other shit these humans liked to watch.

Bulma was humming happily as she walked back into the living room a short while later, carrying two glasses of soda. She smiled when she saw that he hadn't left. She had given it a 50/50 chance. Glancing over at the TV, her smile faltered a little at what he was watching. There was a man wielding a chainsaw, about to cut someone's leg off.

"Um, can we watch something else?" she asked, going over and handing him one of the glasses. Vegeta took it and raised his eyes to her.

"Why? Don't have the stomach for it, weakling?" he asked mockingly. Bulma rolled her eyes and sat down right next to him, making him frown. He would have much preferred her to stay on her end of the sofa.

"It's gross," Bulma said, her nose crinkling in disgust at the gory bloodbath on TV.

"It's clearly fake, woman," Vegeta scoffed, watching the violence studiously. "When the fibula is sawed off at the angle he is aiming the chainsaw, the blood streams out with twice as much veloci-"

"Alright, alright, I get it, you're a killing machine. Can you change the channel now?" Bulma grumbled, making him smirk in amusement. He raised his glass to his nose and took a sniff, making sure it wasn't alcoholic. He'd had enough for one day. Finally, he took a drink while flipping the channels again.

He briefly paused on a channel that was showing a couple engaged in hot, wild, graphic sex. Bulma glanced over at him curiously, and laughed at the appalled look on his face.

"Oh, give me a break. Don't act like you haven't been there and done that," she laughed.

He shot her an angry look. "Woman, this is obscene and vulgar!"

"Honestly, Vegeta. If we hadn't had our fun back in the day, I'd _swear_ you were a virgin," she told him while raising her glass for a drink, making his face flush red in embarrassment. She turned her attention to the couple on TV, surveying the male on display. He was kind of cute, she supposed, though a little too boyish-looking for her taste. She much preferred real men. Like the one sitting next to her.

"Apologies for having standards. I would never lower myself to fucking a woman for the entertainment of billions of humans," he scoffed.

"Why? Afraid someone might steal your techniques?" she teased him, making him growl low in his throat in response. She laughed again, "Besides. You're much more attractive than that guy," she said, motioning to the TV. She raised an eyebrow at him flirtatiously. "Much more skilled too."

"Whatever," he grumbled, his face hot as he changed the channel before the visuals, sounds, and Bulma's intoxicating feminine scent gave him a hard-on. He raised his much-needed cold drink and chugged it down as he continued flipping the channels. As he put the drink on the stand next to the sofa, it occurred to him that there was no end to the mind-boggling stupidity of the human race. Fools dancing, bad acting, animated cartoon garbage. He scowled, trying to find that chainsaw movie again. At least that was entertaining.

"Oh, leave it there!" Bulma cried out, but he frowned and continued changing the channels.

"No," he said bluntly. "I won't watch human mating ritual bullshit-"

Bulma snatched the remote out of his hand so fast, he was left completely stunned. Before he could even get a word out, she leaned up against him, stopping his rant before it formed. He swallowed heavily with a frown. This touchy-feely shit was really testing his discipline. The last time they had been intimate was damn near two years ago (and that wasn't even including the time he spent in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber), and his defenses were being worn down by the minute.

"This isn't anything like that. This is actually a good action movie. Classic, vintage cops and robbers. You'll like this," she said, happily taking a drink of her soda. "Oh, and it's just starting! Perfect timing."

She was unaware that Vegeta wasn't hearing a word she was saying. He just grunted, his eyes lingering on her. It never ceased to amaze him how at ease she was around him, even when the feeling wasn't shared. He was so used to individuals being downright terrified of him, or hating him, or mocking him. Even the rest of the Earthlings, though having accepted him, still treaded lightly sometimes around him, watching their words so as not to test his temper. With Bulma though, things had always been different. With her, things were… comfortable.

Twenty minutes into the movie, Bulma frowned in confusion when his left arm, the one she'd been leaning against, shifted over. Vegeta rested his arm on the top of the sofa in silent invitation. She gave him a look of surprise, but his eyes were straight ahead, locked on the TV as he ignored her presence. Biting her bottom lip, she hesitantly leaned up against his left side. She could feel him stiffen at the contact, and he didn't lower his arm around her like Yamcha would have. But he also didn't make a sound of complaint, and he didn't draw away. She relaxed against him, relishing in the feel of his body heat seeping through her cotton t-shirt. Finally, after a few minutes, she felt him slowly start to relax too. This time, she couldn't hide her smile as they settled into a comfortable silence.

Bulma tried her best to watch the excellent movie playing out on TV, but she was distracted by the feel of the man she was leaning against. She was also distracted by something else.

"Vegeta?"

He grunted in acknowledgement, brought out of the world of the movie he was watching. It was actually very entertaining and enthralling, though he wouldn't ever admit it.

"How come you're not training anymore?" Bulma asked him. She shifted enough so she could look at him. He frowned as he met her gaze.

"That's none of your business, woman," he spat out with more bitterness than he intended. He tensed in response to his own harsh tone, and looked away uncomfortably from Bulma's imploring gaze.

"I suppose. It's just not like you, that's all," Bulma reasoned with him, unfazed by his hostility. He sighed and leaned his head back on the sofa.

"You wouldn't understand," he finally muttered, and Bulma frowned at the distant look that was back in his eyes.

"I would if you talk to me and tell me. I can't read your mind, buddy. Hmm… though, come to think of it. Maybe that should be my next project…" she mused out loud.

"You don't want to read _my _mind, believe me," Vegeta said, his voice falling into a familiar detached tone that she recognized all too well.

"Hey, come on," Bulma told him gently, nudging him and making him look back at her. His dark eyes were hard and impatient, but at the genuine concern in her blue eyes, his eyes softened. "I'll listen to you, I've told you that."

Vegeta rolled his eyes and looked back at the TV. "Worry not, woman. I will train again, for the boy's sake," he finally said. "He must learn how to fight. I will start training him soon, now that the brat can walk."

He could almost discern the change in her mood as her maternal side came bubbling up to the surface. "Vegeta, Trunks is just a baby-"

"He has the blood of a Saiyan Elite. I will begin with him as soon as he's fully mastered walking," he said, cutting her off.

"Don't you think he's a little young?" Bulma asked him warily. She'd known that Vegeta would want to train Trunks, but she didn't think it would start while their son was still in diapers!

"No. By his age, I could already walk _and _fly. In addition, the gravity was stronger on my home planet. The boy is weak just by simple virtue of having been born on this mudball planet, and I won't stand for him being regressed further," he said in a firm voice, giving her a look that said he was not going to budge on this issue.

"Oh," Bulma said, frowning thoughtfully as she looked him over. She couldn't argue with anything he said. Regardless of everything, her little boy was half-Saiyan, and if Vegeta figured he was old enough to train, then he probably was. Not to mention, Vegeta training Trunks meant that he would have to start spending more time with their son, and she was all game for that. "Well, alright," Bulma conceded with a sigh, before settling into him again. "Just don't be too hard on him."

"Whatever," he mumbled, the hard edge leaving his eyes at the feel of her leaning into him again. He frowned at her for a few seconds before turning his attention back to the movie on TV. He growled in annoyance when he saw that someone had been killed, and he hadn't seen how. "See what you've done, woman? You made me miss someone dying with your inane rambling."

"Oh, you've seen enough people dying." He didn't need to see her to know that she was rolling her eyes.

"And your point is…?"

"That missing one isn't that big a deal. It's all _fake _anyways_, _remember?" she teased him.

"Yes, but watching humans dying is always so enjoyable, fake or not," he said with morbid amusement.

Bulma elbowed him hard in the ribs, and he smirked a little. That smirk faltered quickly though when she casually rested her hand on his thigh. He scowled at her hand, and waited to see if she was going to move her hand up. She didn't, and he didn't know which emotion flooded him most: relief or disappointment. Finally, he swallowed heavily and rested his head back, going back to watching the movie as they lapsed into another comfortable silence.

Bulma was dozing off, her fatigue catching up to her when the movie finally ended. She stretched a little, before looking at the time. It was almost four in the morning.

"We should probably head to bed," Bulma said.

She got no response. Looking over, she saw that Vegeta was sound asleep, his head leaned away from her. She hesitated, wondering if she should wake him, before deciding against it. She was well aware that he was always hard-pressed for sleep. Slowly, she tried to withdraw from him, but he suddenly put his arm around her and pulled her back against him, shifting a little as he did. She snuck an utterly stunned look at him, only to find him wearing a scowl with his eyes still closed.

"Vegeta?" she asked him hesitantly.

"Hn?"

"How about going to bed?"

He mumbled something incoherent under his breath, shifting again and pulling her even closer against him. Bulma sighed as she realized she was trapped. Though, admittedly, being trapped in Vegeta's embrace was the best place to be trapped. She smiled a little in satisfaction, before deciding she'd stay with him until he was in a deeper sleep and she could pull away without him noticing. She leaned against him and went back to watching TV, figuring she'd give him a good half hour.

The next thing Bulma knew, she was blinking, slowly coming out of her own sleep. _Shit, _she cursed to herself, still in a sleep haze even though her mind was racing. _Didn't I set my alarm? Is Trunks awake? Damn it, did I set his monitor last night? Shit, was that meeting with the new hire this morning? Wait; what day is it? What-_

Her jumbled thoughts came to a screeching halt when she realized that she was staring at a very familiar jaw. Raising her head from his shoulder, she suddenly realized she had fallen asleep with Vegeta. Sometime during the night, they had both shifted over so he was sprawled out on the sofa, and she was lying on top of him. His head was against the armrest, one arm flung back over it, his other arm secured around her. Glancing over, Bulma saw that the TV was still turned on. There was morning light coming in from the windows, and there was a mysterious blanket over both of them that had most definitely _not _been there before.

She looked back down at him, but he hadn't so much as flinched from her movement. Biting her lip, she almost hesitated pulling away from him. Being in such a position with Vegeta was rare, even going back to when they had been intimate. Part of her wanted to nestle against him and let his steady breaths lull her back to sleep. She hadn't slept so well and so soundly in a while. But she had things she needed to check up on; most important of all, Trunks. She gave him a small smile before slowly withdrawing from him. Vegeta shifted a little, before frowning and turning onto his side towards the sofa, not waking up. Bulma spread the blanket over him and left him in peace, turning off the TV and heading over to the kitchen.

"Morning, Mom," she greeted politely as she entered, a lazy smile on her face. Bunny was already cooking breakfast, and it smelled good. Trunks was changed and in his high chair, scowling as he slammed his little fist into Cheerios, crushing them when he should have been eating them. Bulma smiled at the sight of him, going over to give him a kiss.

"Good morning, dear," Bunny said, beaming happily. "How was your sleep?" she asked with a knowing tone.

Bulma blushed, now realizing where that blanket had come from. "It was good," she answered, giving her mother a wary look before taking a napkin and wiping away the crushed Cheerios, earning a mean-looking glare from Trunks.

"Oh, that's wonderful. True love. How precious!" Bunny giggled, deep down pleased that she had managed to snap a picture of the adorable couple sleeping together. She would show it to them when they got married! She giggled again.

Bulma laughed a little, blissfully unaware of what her mother had done. "Well, I wouldn't call it _that, _but thanks, I think. Anyways, I'm gonna go take a shower, I'll be back for breakfast," she said, giving Trunks a quick kiss on his cheek before heading back out.

Meanwhile, Vegeta was starting to slowly register the smell of eggs, bacon, and pancakes drifting into the living room. He scowled and raised a hand to his eyes, rubbing them impatiently. He squinted his eyes open, glancing around, before suddenly realizing where he was. At once, he sat up, cursing under his breath as he ran his hand down over his mouth.

Had he let her-? Did they have-? _Shit!_

He flung the blanket off him in a panic, before sighing in relief when he saw that his shorts were still on. Good. The last thing he needed was another brat running around. He rubbed the back of his neck which was a little sore, but surprisingly, he actually felt… good. That was definitely the best sleep he'd gotten in a long time.

Taking a glance at the TV and remembering the night with Bulma, Vegeta frowned. He sat there on the sofa for what felt like a long time, trying to make sense of this strange…thing…he had with the heiress. Finally, he just gave up trying to figure it out. Who the hell knew. This was way out of his area of expertise. He got up and headed upstairs to go shower.

Only to run right into her while she was coming back downstairs. He flinched in surprise, before cursing inwardly. She was in a robe now, her hair still a little damp from her shower. He observed her nonchalantly, but when she gave him a smile, he awkwardly looked away.

"Hey you, how'd you sleep?"

"Fine," he spat out, glaring at the wall.

"Geez. Someone's not a morning person," Bulma laughed. "Are you going to join us for breakfast?"

He gave an indifferent shrug.

"I'll take that as a yes," she told him smugly, before finally walking around him and going downstairs. "I'll keep a plate hot for you."

He grunted his approval, his dark eyes stalking her while she descended the staircase. Finally, he exhaled slowly and headed back to his bedroom.

Yes, this was _definitely _out of his area of expertise…


	4. Clearing the air

"Okay, sweetie. Let's try another one. Which shape is the _blue octagon_?"

Trunks scrutinized all the shapes with a look of concentration on his face that was beyond his young age. Finally, after a few seconds, he pointed to the blue octagon. Bulma smiled brightly at him, "That's right! What a smart boy!…Then again, you _do _have me for a mother," she added, her smile turning a little smug. "Now, which one is the _red hexagon_?"

Dressed in a white tank top and dark blue jeans, Vegeta was descending the staircase with the intention of getting something to eat when he heard this exchange. The prince raised an eyebrow in curiosity, slowing down as he looked over at them. Bulma was sitting on the sofa, and Trunks was standing in front of her as she showed him different pages with all kinds of colorful shapes. Neither of them noticed him, and for a moment, he contemplated turning around and heading back the way he came.

He had started coming around a little bit more since Trunks' party a couple of weeks ago and the night with Bulma afterwards. He joined them regularly for meals now, even though he ate in silence, despite the woman's incessant (and highly annoying) efforts to get him to converse about the stupidest topics (what the hell was up with humans fussing over the goddamned weather every single day?). Eventually, she would finally get the hint and leave him in peace, turning her attention to Trunks. Vegeta would watch them interact, subtly paying both of them much more attention than Bulma would ever know.

He observed them now with that same subtle scrutiny as he stood on the steps. Trunks was focused and doing well with Bulma's little lesson. His blue eyes would light up with excitement and pride when Bulma would smile and encourage him after every right answer. He would clap happily, applauding himself, before focusing again when she gave him a new shape to find.

Not for the first time, Vegeta felt like he didn't belong in this picture. He uncomfortably glanced back up the stairs, contemplating just how hungry he really was, when Trunks finally noticed him. The little boy immediately ducked his head, burying his face shyly against Bulma's knees. The heiress gave him a confused look, before looking over and noticing the prince behind them on the stairs.

"Hey stranger," Bulma told him in that sort-of-friendly, sort-of-flirtatious way of hers, giving him a small smile. Vegeta frowned at her, staying silent. Bulma turned back to Trunks and ruffled his light lavender hair affectionately. "Oh, stop being silly, Trunks. Daddy isn't the big, bad boogeyman."

"…Boogeyman?" Vegeta asked, raising an eyebrow in mild confusion as he turned and walked down the rest of the stairs.

"Yeah, it's a made-up monster that scares kids," Bulma laughed, peeling Trunks off her legs.

"More human stupidity. Color me not surprised," Vegeta said dryly. He crossed his arms and watched as Trunks gave Bulma his arms, silently asking her to pick him up. Bulma did, scooping him up into her lap. Vegeta snorted and rolled his eyes. "Woman, stop coddling that child already. You are spoiling him rotten."

"What? I am _not!_" Bulma huffed defensively, looking down at Trunks who threw a mean-looking scowl at Vegeta. The prince returned the look with the additional harshness gained from over thirty years of practice, baring his teeth for good measure. Trunks whimpered and instantly buried his face in Bulma's shirt, making the heiress shoot her son's father a glare. "Vegeta, you jerk! You're scaring him!"

"The brat is soft," Vegeta scoffed in disgust. "Look at him. So frail and weak. He can barely do anything for himself."

"Um, hello, _Earth _to Vegeta! He's a baby! What do you want, him to be a Super Saiyan already so he could spar with you?" Bulma asked him in exasperation. Trunks shyly peeked out just enough to look at his father out of the corner of his eye.

"Hn." Vegeta walked off towards the kitchen without giving either of them another look. He paused briefly just before he went in, turning his head to address her. "I will get something to eat, and then I will take him out back and start training him. Make sure the boy is ready."

Bulma sighed as he disappeared into the kitchen, before looking down at her son. She rubbed his back a little. Trunks looked up at her quizzically.

"Looks like you're going to spend some time with your cranky Daddy today," she told him with a small smile, deep down happy at the thought. Trunks stared blankly at her, before pointing in the direction Vegeta had walked off in. Bulma nodded, her smile growing. "Yep, that's Daddy. He might look all mean and scary, but he's not. He's all bark, and no bite," she said teasingly.

"I _heard_ that," a rough voice growled from the kitchen. "And I have plenty of bite, woman. Bet on it."

Bulma rolled her eyes, before whispering to Trunks, "Come on you, let's get you changed so he won't have an aneurysm if he has to wait…"

Vegeta was eating one of Bunny's ready-made meals for him in silence while he leaned up against the counter, contemplating what he could actually show a boy as young as Trunks, when Bulma walked in with the little boy. Trunks was walking in front of her, dressed in jean overalls, a white t-shirt, and brand new white gym shoes.

"So you'll take care of him while I get some work done?" Bulma asked as Vegeta finished up the last of his food. He turned and headed towards the sink with a grunt.

"I will train the boy, not _take care _of him," he sneered in disgust, putting his plate in the sink.

"Right, sure, anyways," Bulma said, ignoring what he said as she put a baby blue diaper bag on the kitchen table. She immediately started digging through it, pulling out the first item to show Vegeta. "I have this walkie talkie here. You can radio me if you need anything, okay? I'll be in my office but I'll have the other end ready. Or if my mom's back by then, she can help you. Now, Trunks usually takes a juice bottle in about an hour, though maybe you can make it water if you have him doing a lot. He already took his nap so he should be okay. I changed him already, but I have some spare clothes here…"

She kept going, but Vegeta zoned out. He shifted his weight uncomfortably, deep down wondering if this was such a good idea. Maybe the boy really _was_ too young. He frowned; it was too late now. He couldn't back out after saying he would do this. He watched as Bulma showed him a bottle of some kind of ointment, trying his best not to feel overwhelmed. There was seemingly no end to the shit that was inside that blue bag.

Vegeta looked over at his son who was clinging tightly to Bulma's jeans. The boy was such a small thing. How could he require so much?

"Alright, I think that's it!" Bulma said happily, closing up the diaper bag. Vegeta was massaging one of his temples with a scowl on his face as she pushed the bag towards him. He mumbled some colorful curses under his breath, before walking over and grabbing the bag. He had zero intention of even opening it, but he didn't want to hear the woman bitching at him over something so trivial. The prince headed over to the door that led to the backyard, before turning back to face them, his gaze dropping to his son.

"Let's go, boy," he ordered gruffly.

Trunks made no move to obey. Bulma bent down and gently started peeling her son's little hands off her jeans.

"It's okay, baby," she told him with a reassuring smile. "Don't you want to spend some time with Daddy?"

"No," Trunks whimpered. Vegeta shifted his weight, looking away.

"But Daddy's going to show you how to be big and strong just like him," Bulma said, finally freeing her jeans from his tight grip. She steered Trunks gently but firmly so he was facing Vegeta, and tried pushing him forward. Trunks was remarkably strong for his age though, and he remained rooted to the spot. Bulma pushed him a little harder, but Trunks leaned back on his heels, refusing to budge.

"No, Mama," Trunks whined. Vegeta's eye was twitching rhythmically by this point. He reached up and rubbed at it, and was about to concede that Trunks was too young anyways so he could get away from this extremely awkward scene, but Bulma cut in first.

"Now that is enough, Trunks," Bulma finally said in a firm tone. She scooped him up, and he immediately burst into tears. Vegeta raised an eyebrow as she carried him, crying and all, over towards him. The prince tensed, hoping that she wasn't about to make him actually _hold_ their son. He awkwardly moved out of the way, but Bulma just walked past him and took Trunks outside. Vegeta was relieved, but not by much as he slowly followed them.

Bulma lowered Trunks and sat him down on the grass. He raised his little fists to his eyes and continued bawling. He didn't want to be left alone with Vegeta. He could handle his presence when his mother was nearby, but his father terrified him. Bulma straightened and put her hands on her waist, looking down at him as Vegeta came up next to her.

"Make him stop that racket, woman," Vegeta ordered, scowling at the boy who was crying his eyes out.

"_You _make him stop," Bulma shot back at him, frowning at the prince. "You just had to go and scare him. This is why you shouldn't do that, so now you're just going to have to deal with it."

"Well, what the hell am I supposed to do with a screaming child?" Vegeta shot back at her.

"Look," Bulma said, poking him on his chest. She leaned in close to him, both of them glaring at each other. "The only way I can get him to stop crying is by taking him back inside, and that's not going to solve the problem. Trunks has to get over this thing he has around you, and the only way for him to do that is to spend time with you."

Bulma and Vegeta both stared at each other for a few tense seconds while Trunks kept wailing. Finally, Vegeta broke the eye contact first, glancing down at his son briefly, before looking off to the side. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Fine," he spat out tersely. "How do I make him stop then?"

"Just do what comes naturally to you, Vegeta. You'll be okay, tough guy," she reassured him, her gaze softening as she smiled at him. Before Vegeta could move out of the way, Bulma leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. The prince flinched in surprise.

"Woman!" he growled indignantly, wiping at his cheek with his palm in disgust, as though she would leave some kind of mark.

Bulma just laughed. "Have fun, and don't be too hard on him," she said, before walking off back into the compound, the prince's eyes on her all the way.

"Mama!" Trunks yelled in horror when he saw Bulma walking away.

The little boy got up to his feet quickly, and immediately went to run after her, when Vegeta was suddenly in his way. Trunks yelped in surprise and lost his balance, landing sitting on the grass. He gawked up at Vegeta, who looked about twenty stories tall as he leaned over the little boy. Trunks' lip quivered, and he burst into tears again, covering his face with his hands.

Vegeta exhaled slowly through his nose as he stared down at his son. That goddamned woman. She should have given him some real advice on how to handle this boy instead of leaving him to this fate. The prince ran a hand down his face.

"Stop that racket this instant, boy," he ordered harshly, using the same tone he used to give orders to Nappa and Raditz.

Trunks cried more. Vegeta's eye was twitching again. He swore under his breath, at a complete loss on what to do. When his orders to his men weren't obeyed, he beat them senseless until they needed a rejuvenation chamber to recover. That was definitely out of the question with Trunks. Clearing his throat, he tried again.

"Stop your crying immediately, brat," he growled angrily.

Trunks kept wailing, tears streaming down his face as he wreaked havoc on his father's sensitive hearing. Vegeta grit his teeth. Seriously - this could NOT be that fucking hard. He had been in thousands of battles, and had brainstormed his way out of more life and death situations than he could count. He could handle a child!

Finally, the prince's patience snapped.

"That is ENOUGH!" Vegeta screamed.

Trunks flinched and immediately stopped crying, choking back his sobs. His blue eyes were wide with both shock and terror as he stared up at his father. Vegeta sneered down at him.

"You are my son, and I won't tolerate such foolish behavior from you, boy. You have royal Saiyan blood, and it's high time you start learning something about your heritage. You are soft and weak, but I will teach you what I know, and one day, _you _will be the strongest of all of us, _not _one of the brats of that dead third-class dog. Understand?"

Still sniffling, Trunks just blinked as he stared blankly up at Vegeta through tear-filled eyes.

"Good," Vegeta said gruffly, nodding in approval. "Now come. It's time to start showing you a thing or two."

"Mama," Trunks whimpered, pouting as he looked over at the compound.

"Your _mama _isn't here," Vegeta growled, walking around Trunks. "Now follow me."

The prince walked over to the gravity chamber, Trunks' blue diaper bag slung over his shoulder. He stopped before he walked in and looked back at his son. The little boy was still sitting in the grass, pouting as he stubbornly glared at his shoes, sniffling every few seconds.

"Don't make me walk over there and get you, boy," Vegeta warned.

Trunks looked at the compound, then looked over his shoulder at his father. Biting his lip anxiously, he slowly got up to his feet. He was still very afraid of Vegeta, but his curiosity got the best of him. That big white capsule had always gotten his attention, but Bulma never let him near it. It looked like that's where they were going to go. He hesitantly walked over to his father, and then pointed at the gravity chamber. Vegeta smirked at him and nodded, walking in. Trunks slowly walked in after him, his eyes wide with curiosity and amazement. He jumped when the door closed behind him, looking over at it in open-mouthed surprise.

"My home planet had ten times the gravity here on Earth," Vegeta said, drawing Trunks' attention. The prince was standing at the control panel, Trunks' bag at his feet, his arms crossed over his chest. "All Saiyan infants were used to it because that's what we were all born in. So the first natural step is for you to get used to that too. If our planet still existed, you would already be weaker than any low class Saiyan infant, and that is unacceptable."

His words sailed over Trunks' head as the little boy looked around in curiosity. He raised his thumb to his mouth, sucking on it while Vegeta kept talking. Trunks glanced over to a portal when he thought he saw a butterfly flying past.

Vegeta then engaged the gravity simulator to ten times Earth's gravity. Trunks looked around in confusion when he heard the whirring sound. Vegeta didn't even blink when the gravity finally kicked in, but Trunks immediately collapsed, falling flat on his back as the force easily pinned him to the floor.

"OWWWW!" the little boy yelled, unable to move an inch.

"Shit," Vegeta muttered under his breath, frowning in concern. He adjusted the settings, dropping the gravity until Trunks was able to get back up to his feet. He had to take it down to three times Earth's gravity until the little boy finally got back up.

Trunks scowled, more angry than anything. Something was weighing him down, but he had no clue what. He pulled the collar of his t-shirt out, looking down at himself in puzzlement to see if he was wearing something super heavy.

"We'll start here at three, and slowly work up until you can handle ten easily," Vegeta finally said.

Trunks pulled out the collar of his shirt to a ridiculous degree, before pulling it over his head as he continued his vain search for whatever was weighing him down. Vegeta walked over to him and squatted down in front of him. He rolled his eyes and pulled Trunks' shirt down. The little boy looked at Vegeta warily as the prince smoothed out the stretched collar of his shirt, readjusting the straps of Trunks' overalls. He then cupped Trunks' chin and raised his head, making him flinch and whimper at the feel of his father's rough hands on his soft skin. Vegeta was uncaring though, quickly and thoroughly brushing the remnants of Trunks' tears away with his other hand.

"Saiyans do not cry, so there will be no more of these foolish tears, boy," Vegeta said, frowning as he made eye contact with his son. Trunks bit his lip, but didn't look away as Vegeta lowered his hands. "Now then. Remember this?" the prince asked, raising one hand up as a blue ball of ki appeared over his palm. Trunks' blue eyes brightened and he immediately reached out to touch the blue ball, but Vegeta stood up and started walking backwards. "I don't think so, kid. You want it? Come and get it," he almost taunted.

Trunks' excited look melted into a glare, and Vegeta couldn't help the smirk that came over his face. Damn, the boy looked just like him. Trunks forced himself to move, walking slowly after his father, unknowingly battling the gravity as he focused on trying to catch up to Vegeta.

An hour later, Bulma was walking back upstairs, deciding she'd check on Vegeta and Trunks and see how things were going. It was time for Trunks to have his pre-dinner bottle anyways, and though she had explained all of that to Vegeta, she wasn't dumb. She'd seen the way Vegeta's eyes had glazed over while she gave him the run-down on what Trunks needed. She figured a little reminder wouldn't hurt, since he was probably too caught up with what he was doing with Trunks. She only hoped he wasn't overdoing it, since she didn't want her little boy to be sore tomorrow.

She walked into the kitchen and peered out through the window. Vegeta was outside now with Trunks. The prince had a good grip on the back of Trunks' overalls, and he had the boy raised eye-level with him as he spoke to him. Bulma smiled a little when she saw that Trunks was giving Vegeta his full attention as the prince pointed to the sky with his free hand while he continued lecturing.

She watched them for a little while, her heart warming with love. She didn't know what Vegeta was so concerned about. Clearly, Trunks had a natural instinct inside of him to respond to Vegeta's authority. And clearly, Vegeta wasn't that bad in the father role as he seemed to think.

_Oh, they're so adorable together! _she thought to herself, her smile widening. _I should really take a pic-_

Her thought derailed when she saw Vegeta suddenly rear up and launch Trunks right up into the air until the little boy was out of sight.

Vegeta was staring up at the sky, wondering if the boy's instincts would take over and he would learn how to fly, when he suddenly heard a loud screech.

"_VEGETA!" _

The prince flinched in shock, looking over as Bulma barged out of the compound and stormed over to him. _Aw shit, _he thought to himself, scowling as he looked up to where his son was free-falling back down. _Damn. He didn't fly_, he thought with a disappointed sigh. He'd explained how to fly to the boy, but clearly, he hadn't made himself clear…

Vegeta reached out with one hand and effortlessly caught Trunks by the back of his overalls before the boy plummeted down to the ground. Trunks blinked, too shocked from his terror to scream or cry as the world slowed back down to normal for him.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Bulma screamed as she stalked over to them, making Vegeta wince from her volume. "ARE YOU INSANE? TRUNKS CAN'T FLY YET!"

Vegeta sneered at her, "What the hell do you think I'm trying to show him, woman? The only way for the boy to learn how to fly is to be airborne."

"Well, could you just not throw him so _high_ please!" Bulma yelled in exasperation. "I mean, seriously, are you TRYING to give me a heart attack?"

Indignant now, Vegeta turned to face her directly, fury growing in his dark eyes. "Is your brain malfunctioning today, or has your supposed genius always been stupidity in disguise? Do you really think for _one_ second that I would let my own son fall to his death?"

Bulma hesitated a second too long in answering him. Suddenly, the fury in Vegeta's eyes was replaced by understanding. An awkward and uncomfortable tension rose between them as both of their minds went back to an event they had both tried to put behind them. Vegeta looked away and cleared his throat.

"You're thinking about what happened with Dr. Gero, aren't you?" Vegeta said more than asked, reading her with an accuracy that left Bulma feeling both ashamed and regretful. His tone was completely neutral as he continued, "Now you don't trust me with Trunks."

Trunks' shock and fear had subsided by this point, and he now wanted another round in the sky. He clapped happily.

"Up! Up!" he shouted excitedly, blissfully unaware of the suffocating tension between his parents.

"I didn't say that," Bulma finally said as she shook her head. "I didn't-" she swallowed and cleared her throat, "I know that you wouldn't-"

"Enough," Vegeta said gruffly with a scowl, cutting her off. Without so much as glancing at her, he lifted Trunks and put the little boy right into Bulma's chest, making her instinctively take their son in her arms. "I'm done with him."

"Vegeta-" Bulma started in a pleading voice, but he was already walking away. As if she didn't feel bad enough, Trunks leaned towards him, his bottom lip quivering as he watched his father walk away. He looked at his mother and pointed urgently at Vegeta, and Bulma sighed. She held him with one arm and reached up, covering her eyes with her hand.

Bulma took a deep breath to compose herself, but she felt horrible. That incident was a long time ago, and she had her fair share of the blame for Dr. Gero almost killing her and Trunks by shooting her jet down. She shouldn't have been there to begin with. She was a mother now, not a sixteen-year-old looking for fun and adventure. Yes, Vegeta hadn't lifted a finger to save her, but her own guilt had always stopped her from holding it against him. After all, he hadn't made any kind of commitment to Trunks. Her son's safety was _her _responsibility, and she simply should have known better. She knew that Vegeta had a different perspective now and that he wouldn't hurt Trunks, but Bulma couldn't help it. Her maternal instincts had just kicked in, leaving no room for rational thought.

_I hurt him, _she realized, dismayed at the thought. Vegeta wouldn't ever admit to such a thing, and would probably be enraged by the mere suggestion, but she knew that he already doubted himself enough for both of them. She hadn't helped the cause.

"Mama," Trunks said with a pout, tugging on her shirt. Bulma took a deep breath and lowered her hand, looking down at him. He had tears in his eyes as he pointed towards the door Vegeta had walked through.

"I know, honey," Bulma said apologetically. "Don't worry, Daddy's just tired. He'll train you again. Did you have fun with him?" Trunks nodded and she smiled a little, leaning forward and kissing his forehead. "Good. Next time, your silly Mommy will just stay out of it. Now how about your bottle?"

"Bulma!"

Looking over her shoulder in surprise, Bulma saw Yamcha walking into the backyard, a bright smile on his face. She groaned inwardly; her ex really had poor timing.

"Hey," she said, giving him a strained smile. "I didn't know you were stopping by."

Yamcha's smile faltered a little, but he kept it on his face as he answered, "Really? I sent you a text yesterday asking if it was alright, and you replied saying yes."

"I did?" Bulma asked, blinking in surprise. She must have really been swamped with her work to have had that text exchange and then forgotten all about it.

"Yeah," Yamcha answered, walking over and smiling at Trunks. "Hey little man, how's it going?"

"Oh, now that you're here, could you watch him for me?" Bulma asked, handing Trunks over to Yamcha without so much as waiting for an answer. "I have to go talk to Vegeta."

"Oh," Yamcha said, trying hard to keep his disappointment out of his voice. "Yeah, sure," he said, taking Trunks into his arms.

"Thanks," she said, flashing him a genuine smile, before turning and walking away.

Yamcha watched her walk away with a sigh, before Trunks started squirming to get out of his hold. He lowered the little boy to the grass, and Trunks immediately ran back to the gravity chamber. Yamcha's eyes widened, and he gave chase, "Hey! Come back here!"

Meanwhile, Vegeta was pacing back and forth in his room like a caged lion. He was torn between taking off and going back to the gravity room to train under his old levels. His jaw was clenched tightly in frustration as his pacing quickened. The raging emotions inside of him were maddening, and he was having a difficult time sorting through them.

Deep down, he knew that he could not bring himself to raise a finger to hurt Bulma or Trunks. That was as true now as it had always been, but at the time of the incident with Dr. Gero, he had still been having a very hard time accepting that fact. It also didn't help that he found out the true identity of Mirai Trunks not long before Bulma appeared in her jet with their infant son. All he could think of at the time was how much of a burden all of them were, how much they weighed him down. His resentment was teetering on the edge of hatred by the time Bulma made her appearance in her jet.

So when the opportunity presented itself and he saw them falling to their deaths, he looked away and pretended he didn't even notice as he focused instead on locating the fleeing Dr. Gero. Having both of them die and be out of his life forever was something he had not been opposed to. If they died, then he would be back to having no attachments again, and he didn't have to even do anything to make it happen.

Of course, he was also well aware that the future version of his son would likely save them – and he was not surprised when the boy did. But his own callous mentality towards them at the time made Vegeta feel ashamed now, and he didn't know why.

Why should he feel ashamed for his actions in the past? He had seen his son from the future die and it had changed his perspective; as was usually the case with Vegeta, he needed to learn things the hard way, and that's exactly what happened. Wasn't that enough? Wasn't it enough that he was staying on this planet that he absolutely fucking hated, just to be close to his son? What the hell did the woman want from him, an apology?

Whirling around, Vegeta slammed his fist hard into the wall with a snarl, punching a hole clean through it. It did little to take the edge off his rage, rage that was mostly directed at himself. Try as he might, he could not help but wonder: what if Mirai Trunks hadn't saved them?

_Why do I even care? _he wondered to himself in absolute bewilderment. All he had to do was assure the woman that the boy was safe under his watch. There was no reason for the guilt that was gnawing at him, or the feeling he couldn't name that reared up at the knowledge that Bulma didn't fully trust him with Trunks.

Vegeta could feel his ki surging, and he cursed to himself as he reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose to calm down. He needed to leave and get some fresh air. He needed to clear his mind. He grabbed the leather jacket hanging over the back of the chair at his desk in his room. He usually didn't need such a thing, but the place where he went to clear his mind was colder than even he was comfortable in. He was slipping it on when there was a knock at the door.

"Vegeta?" Bulma asked on the other side.

The prince adjusted his jacket as he looked over his shoulder at the door. Bulma tried to enter, but it was locked. Vegeta's lip twitched and he looked away, remaining silent. He was too flustered to deal with her right now. He knew himself, and he knew that he hardly watched his words when he was agitated. For some reason he didn't know, he didn't want to risk putting himself in a situation where he would say something he would regret. The regret he felt already was quite enough for his taste.

Bulma finally gave up and left, and he sighed in relief. He went into the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face, and it helped calm him. When he finally came back out and opened the window to make his departure, he froze at the scene down below in the backyard.

Bulma, Yamcha, Trunks, and Bunny were all in the backyard now. Vegeta scowled as he watched Yamcha trying to show Trunks how to play rock, paper, scissors while Bunny and Bulma laughed on the side. Vegeta's lip twitched in agitation, his eyes burning with raging jealousy as his gaze finally settled on Yamcha. The urge inside of him to rip Yamcha's head off was practically crippling in its intensity. Bulma and Trunks…

…_are mine? _

He blinked in surprise as the words whispered into his mind. Well, Trunks was certainly his son. But Bulma? Vegeta scoffed and closed the window, before turning around and heading out the other way.

This planet was really making him lose his mind.

* * *

"Kind of an early night for him, isn't it?" Yamcha asked as Bulma finally walked back into the living room. She took a seat next to him on the sofa and offered him a half-smile.

"Well, Vegeta was working with him for about an hour. I figured he'd go down early tonight."

"Speaking of, any idea where he is?" Yamcha asked, looking up towards Vegeta's room. He had sensed the Saiyan when he first showed up several hours ago, but the prince had taken off shortly afterwards.

Bulma's smile disappeared at his question. She sighed in disappointment.

"No, but he'll be around. He's never gone for too long."

Yamcha nodded, and then gave her a smile. "Well, anyways, I was just wondering. Do you have any plans for this Friday night?"

Bulma looked at him in surprise. "What?"

"I said, do you-"

"No, yeah, I heard you. I mean- are you asking me out on a date?"

"What? Who? Me? Us? A date?" Yamcha said, forcing out a laugh. "Of course not. It's just one of my friends who I used to play baseball with wants me to go check out this new club he's opening, and I don't want to go alone. That's all. It's not a _date_," he snorted. Bulma narrowed her eyes at him, and he immediately rambled, "I mean, not that I wouldn't _mind_ a date with you, of course. Who wouldn't want to go out on a date with you? If you really want it to be a date, I mean, we can make it a date-"

"Yamcha."

"Yes, I'll shut up now," he said sheepishly. Not able to help it, Bulma smiled at him and snickered a little.

"I don't know, but if I get my work done by then, then I'll think about it," she finally said.

Yamcha's eyes brightened. "Really?"

"Well, we'll see," Bulma said, before gushing in excitement, "I'm really putting a lot of work into my research and I'm almost on the verge of figuring out a working solution to the 3D space and time version of the Navier-Stokes equations-"

"Right, that's great, B. So maybe we could get something to eat before we go. I was thinking Italian? I know it's your favorite," Yamcha said with a grin. Bulma sucked at her upper teeth, irritated by the interruption and once again reminded why they hadn't been able to work.

"Maybe, we'll see," she said again, before standing up. She pulled off the headband that was keeping her hair back. "I think I'm going to go take a shower and then call it an early night myself."

"Oh, okay," Yamcha said, standing as well. He took a step closer to her, but she raised her hands and used a hair tie around her wrist to pull her hair back. She always kept one ready whenever Trunks started getting too much fun out of yanking on her hair; she made a mental note to cut it short again as soon as she got a moment. Right now though, tying her hair back provided the perfect excuse not to make any physical contact with him. Yamcha hesitated, but smiled anyways. "Well, how about you just call or text me then and let me know if we're on for Friday night?"

"Sure, I'll do that," Bulma said, forcing a smile and making a mental note to write that down so she wouldn't forget.

"Awesome, I hope you can make it. I'll get going then so you can go shower. Puar's probably wondering where I'm at anyways."

"Okay, sounds good."

"Alright, later B."

"Bye," Bulma said, watching him head out for a few seconds before turning and heading the opposite way. She wasn't sure about the idea of going out like she used to. Those days had definitely come to a grinding halt with Trunks.

Maybe it _would _do her some good to get out of the compound and have some fun for once. She definitely deserved it. She'd been working harder than usual lately, on the verge of a huge breakthrough in her research. As such, she had been pushing harder with her work lately, while juggling her motherly duties, while trying her hardest to get Vegeta more comfortable around them. All things that were starting to drain her; especially the last one. Not for the first time, she contemplated hiring some extra hands to help her with Trunks. It was a thought.

After getting a beer, she stepped out in the backyard. It was nighttime now, and the air was refreshingly cool. Bulma looked up at the sky and sighed, wondering where Vegeta was.

As if on cue, his voice cut through the air.

"There is more emptiness up there than you think."

Startled, Bulma looked over to her side. He was there, leaning against the compound, gazing up at the sky with his arms crossed over his chest. Bulma let out a calming breath, before frowning at him.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to sneak up on me?"

Vegeta snorted. "I've been out here. You are just blind to your surroundings."

Bulma sighed and walked over to him. She stayed a few feet away as she also leaned up against the compound. They fell into an awkward silence. He kept his eyes up on the constellations, while she twirled the bottle of beer in her hand.

"About earlier," she finally started. "I didn't mean-"

"Don't," he cut her off, without looking at her. "Don't apologize."

She looked over at him, and he could already feel the intensity of her gaze. Bulma always wore her emotions on her sleeve, whether that was happiness or anger, or everything in between. Without even saying anything, he could feel her questioning him.

"Well, I just felt bad, you know. I panicked," she said guiltily. "I know that things are different-"

"I said, don't," he repeated, his tone harsh now. His earlier rage was coming back, but this time, it was directed at her. What the hell was wrong with this Earth woman? _He_ was the one who had fucked up, not her. His eye twitched, and he reached up to massage it to make it stop as he sighed.

"The incident with Dr. Gero. Bulma… I didn't…" Vegeta started, frowning as his voice trailed off. He crossed his arms tighter over his chest in frustration. He was so out of his element here, that part of him just wanted to say to hell with this and leave again. He owed her no explanations, his pride said. But he couldn't help it. He felt like he did.

Bulma turned to look at him directly, now giving him her undivided attention. Rare were the times when the man before her actually addressed her by name, and even rarer were the times when he was hesitant in speaking his mind.

"You didn't what?" she finally asked him gently. Vegeta exhaled through his nose in frustration and looked away from her.

"I didn't think…" he shifted his weight awkwardly. He had left for the sole purpose of organizing his thoughts just for this moment, and now here was the moment, and he didn't know what to say. He was hardly an expert at this kind of thing, and the only reason he was even bothering was because she deserved more from him. She was the mother of his son, and that hadn't mean a damn thing to him once upon a time.

But it meant something now. Vegeta finally drew up his resolve, and looked her in the eye.

"In retrospect, I could have…handled that, and many other things…differently," he conceded.

Bulma smiled at his form of an apology. She knew that was the closest he could get. She really did understand him. At the thought, some tension finally left Vegeta's shoulders and chest. He looked away awkwardly.

"Well, you were hardly the only one at fault, so don't beat yourself too much over it," Bulma told him reassuringly. She looked down at her beer bottle with a sigh. "I shouldn't have been there to begin with. Some mother I am, huh?" she asked, half jokingly and half regretfully.

Vegeta responded before he could stop himself.

"You're a good mother."

Bulma looked back over at him in surprise, before smiling brilliantly at him. "That's such a sweet thing to say," she said, her heart swarming with love. Her smile grew as a noticeable blush spread over his features, even in the dark night.

"Whatever," he muttered, before motioning with his chin for her beer bottle. She came a little closer and handed it to him. He took it and took a swig, and this time, the silence between them was much more comfortable.

"I'll make it a point to stay out of the way when you want to train Trunks."

Vegeta looked down and admired his steel-toed black boots for a moment, before hesitantly clearing his throat.

"I know that you don't trust me with the boy-"

"No, I do, I just-"

"Woman, will you just shut the fuck up and let me speak?" Vegeta hissed in agitation. "You had better believe that what I am about to tell you, I will never tell you again. Do you want to hear it or not?"

More out of curiosity than anything, Bulma stayed silent. Vegeta drew a deep breath and closed his eyes for a few seconds. Finally, he looked away and quietly spoke.

"I know that things have not always been…ideal…between us. I make no excuses for what I have said or done before. And I cannot guarantee that I will never say or do something else in the future that will offend you. But the one thing I can guarantee you is this: I won't ever physically harm you or Trunks. As long as I am here…you will both be safe."

Vegeta's face was hot as he fell into silence. He had never made anyone such a promise (he had purposely avoided using that word, since it held no true meaning to him), but there it was. He kept his gaze averted off to the side, as each second ticked away into more and more uncomfortable silence. He wanted to look over at her and see if he could get a gauge on her reaction to what he said, but he stubbornly refused to.

The prince stiffened when he suddenly felt her near him. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye as she leaned in and kissed his cheek. This time, he didn't flinch.

"Thank you, Vegeta," she whispered in his ear, sending a chill down his spine.

Vegeta grunted and absently turned his head a little towards her. Her breath was still on his skin, and it was making the small hairs on the back of his neck rise. Bulma brought a hand up to his face, gently turning his head the rest of the way. Vegeta closed his eyes and sighed into the ensuing kiss. They both slowly reacquainted themselves, both of their tongues lazily playing with the other as they each patiently explored the other's hot mouth. He hesitantly put his arm around her waist and pulled her closer, savoring in her rare and familiar taste. It had been so long…

Bulma ran her hands up his chest, pushing his jacket back as he turned them so he had her pinned against the wall. Vegeta dropped the beer bottle as he put his hands on the sides of her face, deepening their kiss, both of their hearts pounding as she slipped her hands under his shirt.

He was going to shrug out of his leather jacket when Bulma broke their kiss. Vegeta instinctively snarled, his dark eyes clouded with desire, but Bulma put a finger on his lips to hush him. She frowned and looked off to the side.

"That's Trunks."

Vegeta reined himself in, before listening. Yes, that was indeed their son wailing. He scowled and pulled himself away from her, readjusting his jacket.

"How the hell did you hear the brat from here?" he demanded gruffly.

"A mother's gift," she told him teasingly.

"Hn," he grunted, his lip twitching in irritation. Bulma reached out to him, and he froze from head to toe as she wiped his upper lip with her thumb, ridding him of some lip gloss that she'd left on him.

"I'm going to go make sure he's alright, but if you're up for some fun later, do stop by, dear prince," she whispered to him with a flirtatious smirk. Vegeta swallowed heavily at her invitation as she let her thumb linger on his lips for longer than necessary.

"Vulgar woman," he mumbled under his breath with a frown.

Bulma laughed at him and turned around, heading back inside to go check on Trunks. Vegeta let out a deep breath, before taking off his jacket altogether. He was too hot for it now. He held it in one hand, running his other hand down over his mouth.

What the hell had just happened? He had no intention of ever doing such a thing with Bulma again, and yet…? Did the woman have an ability to cast spells on him? He shook his head in absolute confusion. He was no closer to understanding the woman than he was the day he found her and Krillin on Namek. Nor did he understand his own desire for her. He was not a lust-driven man. He had control over his desires and primal needs.

But this wasn't about lust. Lust, he understood. But _this_…

Vegeta sighed in defeat. Turning around, he leapt up, easily landing on his bedroom windowsill. He climbed in, and resolved not to take Bulma up on her invitation. She had simply caught him at a weak moment with his guard down. He'd opened up to her, and she had made a move on him, and he had given in. A simple mistake, one that wouldn't happen again.

As he stripped down and got into the shower, turning on the water as cold as it would go, he already knew the truth.

He was really only fooling himself.


	5. Family

"Oh sweetheart. Of course I'll move in with you. I love you so much."

"Really? You mean it?"

"Yes!" the pretty actress on TV said, before flinging herself into her handsome boyfriend's arms.

Bulma rolled her eyes and took a bite of her pizza. That lucky whore. If only the man in her life were so simple to figure out.

Vegeta hadn't said a single word to her since their shared kiss several nights ago, and it was driving Bulma nuts. She had gone to her bedroom that night expecting company in the form of the handsome prince, and had gotten nothing instead. Any other man on the planet would have leapt at her invitation, but the one man she wanted was pretending like she didn't exist. She would have gone after him too, because she was certain from the way he responded to her initiated kiss, that he would not put up much of a fight if she blatantly came onto him.

But Vegeta wasn't the only one in this equation with pride on the line. She was _not_ going to give in first in their little stalemate. Vegeta might've been the prince of an alien warrior race, but at the end of the day, he was still a man.

A sexy, rugged man, with a body to die for… but still, just a man. And not just any man – a man she had had before… that gave her an edge, even if he didn't know it. She knew what he liked-

"Woman, instead of stuffing your face and getting fat, why don't you make yourself useful for once and go make that brat of yours stop screeching?"

-and what he liked, apparently, was being a jackass, Bulma deduced as she nearly choked on her pizza.

Vegeta was standing right behind her, his arms crossed over his chest, a hint of a smirk on his face. He'd been annoyed when he had come searching for her, but he was admittedly finding the act of startling the woman to be quite enjoyable. She always got so flustered, and she was so damn easy to scare. His smirk spread in amusement.

"First of all, I am NOT fat, you jerk!" Bulma snapped, looking over her shoulder at him. As soon as she did, his smirk disappeared and his hardened, military-like stare replaced it. She was unfazed, matching his expression with an equally intimidating one as she continued, "And second of all, it's time for Trunks' nap. He's crying because he's tired."

"If he was tired, he would have _slept_ by now," Vegeta sneered, enunciating his words as though she were stupid. Bulma's eyes narrowed.

"He is a _baby_. He does not _want_ to sleep," Bulma said, speaking slowly as if he was a child. "But he'll fall asleep soon if we just leave him there."

"I am tired of hearing that boy screaming and crying. He has been doing so for the last 12 and a half minutes. You're his mother. Do something," he ordered.

"Look, if the noise is bothering you so much, then stay down here, or go outside for a while. Take a nap on the grass, or go sight-seeing. Or hell, go for a drive. Do whatever you want, but Trunks is staying in that crib until he sleeps for at least an hour, and that is _final,_" the heiress said, turning to face the TV again and leaving the prince fuming behind her.

"Hn. Go for a _drive,_" Vegeta repeated in complete disdain, as though it was the most offensive suggestion she could have made. "You will never catch me operating one of those absurd human vehicles."

"Why not? Goku and Piccolo learned how to drive."

_Well, eventually, _she added mentally with a giggle, before biting into her slice of pizza.

"I don't care what those idiots have done!" Vegeta barked in frustration. "The point is that I am tired of hearing that blasted child crying!"

"Vegeta, you can barely hear him down here. Just stay down here for another ten or twenty minutes while he falls asleep! Geez. I should sign you up for anger management classes…"

Vegeta glared at her from behind. She didn't understand. It wasn't the physical sound of their son crying that was bothering him. Hell, his room was sound-proofed. If staying in his room would have solved the goddamned problem, he would have never come searching for her in the first place.

It ran deeper. Ever since he decided to stay on Earth for Trunks, there were some occasions when they were mentally in tune with each other. It didn't happen often back then because the boy had been afraid of him. Since he started training Trunks, though, that mental barrier was dropped. Though the boy was far too young for telepathy, he still could "reach out" to Vegeta mentally when he was crying without even trying. As such, the prince could hear him _everywhere. _

It wasn't exactly something he was enjoying.

"Fine," Vegeta hissed, "If you won't do anything, then I will."

Bulma blinked in surprise, but Vegeta was already marching furiously up the stairs towards their son's bedroom. She looked over at him, just in time to catch a glimpse of his feet as he got to the top. Her maternal instincts were sounding off in alarm that she had an angry Saiyan making his way directly over to her little boy, but she pushed that feeling away.

After all, Trunks was Vegeta's little boy too.

The prince kicked the door to Trunks' room clean open and barged in. Trunks was rolling around in his crib bawling, but that all immediately came to a stop when the door practically exploded open off its hinges. Vegeta stalked right up to the crib and glared down at his son. Trunks sniffed and reined his tears in. He was very young, but he had learned a few things very quickly about his father. And one was never to cry in his presence.

"You are making a racket, boy, and I am fucking tired of it," Vegeta growled. "You will stop that at once. Understand?"

Trunks shifted over and grabbed onto the bars of his crib. He pulled himself up so he was standing, and looked up at his father with wide eyes. He was far more comfortable in Vegeta's presence after only just a few days of training, a fact that was not lost on the prince.

Looking down at his son, Vegeta felt some of his anger leave him, and he couldn't exactly place why.

"Da! Out. Ooouuuuuuut," Trunks whined, reaching his arms up to Vegeta so he could lift him out of the crib. "Peeeese?"

"No," Vegeta said with a scowl. To emphasize his point, he took one step back away from the crib and crossed his arms, staring hard at the little boy. "Go to sleep."

"No sleep," Trunks whimpered. He looked at his father with a quivering bottom lip, his eyes shining with fresh tears.

"Hn. That look won't work on me, brat."

Trunks plopped down, and crossed his arms just like Vegeta was doing, with a matching scowl to boot. The prince raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Are you tired?"

"No!"

"Your mother says you are."

"No nap!"

"You're as difficult as she is," Vegeta muttered under his breath.

"Da! Da! Out!"

Vegeta growled low in his throat. "I've already told you, boy. You are to address me as Father."

"Faahhh-ermmm…"

"Bah. Never mind." The prince reached up and rubbed at his eyes. He sighed deeply, before lowering his hand and crossing his arms again. "How about some training to get you tired? You want to train?"

"Yeah!" Trunks hollered. He let go of the bars to clap happily. "Train!"

"I'll tell you what, boy. I will train you for an hour, on the condition that you sleep afterwards. Do we have an agreement?"

"Yeah!" Trunks answered, happily nodding his head, even though he didn't fully understand. All he knew was that he was close to freedom. He gave Vegeta a bright smile and raised his arms to him eagerly as his father approached him again.

Vegeta reached down with one hand, lifted Trunks by the back of his shirt, and then dropped him on the floor. By this time, Trunks was getting used to this treatment, and he was anticipating it. The little boy landed on his feet, circled his arms quickly to keep his balance, and then plopped down on his diaper. Vegeta snorted in amusement, and almost cracked a smile.

"Let's go, kid," he said, heading to the door to lead the way. He paused at the doorway when he sensed his son moving in the opposite direction. Curious, he paused and glanced back. Trunks was digging in a shelf under his changing table.

"Shoes!" Trunks cried out in excitement, pulling out his white gym shoes. He turned to Vegeta, beaming as he held them up, "Shoes!"

"Fantastic," Vegeta dryly responded, rolling his eyes and leaning his shoulder against the door frame. "Hurry up and put them on then."

Trunks sat down and tried to do just that. After a few minutes of watching his uncoordinated attempts, Vegeta was starting to think maybe he should have heeded Bulma's advice.

"Hold on, I'll put them on for you," Vegeta muttered. "Otherwise we're never going to do a damn thing today…"

About an hour later, Bulma was downstairs on the main floor. She had a pair of goggles perched on top of her head, and was looking over a blue print as some of her employees looked on.

"Hey, this is pretty good," Bulma finally said with a smile. "The only thing we should change are the dimensions on this part," she said, looking around for something to write with. The closest thing was a sharpie, so she snatched that up to make a few markups. "That way it can withstand the stress when we apply-"

"WOMAN! COME GET YOUR SON AT ONCE!"

Bulma was startled half to death, and her hand slipped. "Ugh! Sorry," she apologized, shaking her head as she put the cap on the sharpie. "Don't worry, that mark don't matter. Let's get a new blueprint printed out with these modifications, okay? I want us to have this baby knocked out by next week at the latest."

Looking over her shoulder, she saw Vegeta there. That son of a bitch, she fumed silently to herself. He was standing a level above them at the glass window overlooking the main floor. She made eye contact with him, and could tell that he was pissed. That was fine, because she was pissed now too, especially when she saw him raise Trunks in his right hand by the shirt. The little boy was filthy. He was supposed to have been taking a nap, not been rolling around in dirt!

"I'll be back, guys," Bulma told her team, taking her goggles off and dropping them on the table.

No one said anything, already seeing that look in Bulma's eye not to get in her way. And no one dared look over at Vegeta. One employee accidentally ran into the Saiyan once on his way out, and had barely survived. Word spread quickly, and everyone made it a point to stay as far away from the frightening and intimidating man as they could.

Bulma looked back at Vegeta and pointed in the direction of her office. He instantly turned and started heading in that direction, carrying Trunks with him. Bulma sighed and followed suit, removing her white lab coat along the way.

Vegeta was standing in front of the door by the time she got up there. He glared at her as she approached, watching as she reached up behind her and let her hair down. He paid far more attention than necessary to the way Bulma tossed her hair back over her shoulder. Mentally chastising himself, he looked off to the side as she came to stand in front of him.

"What the hell, Vegeta?" Bulma exclaimed, taking Trunks into her arms. She held the baby out at arm's length, looking at his dirty clothes.

"He wanted to run, so I let him run," Vegeta said, giving an indifferent shrug as he kept his gaze off to the side. "He ran into mud. Now he smells like shit."

Trunks giggled and started chanting, "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit-"

"Ugh! I told you to watch what you say around him, Vegeta!" Bulma yelled. She put Trunks down and took his hand firmly in hers. "Hush, stop saying that word. That's a bad word," Bulma told Trunks, who scowled up at her but did as he was told. She looked up and caught Vegeta sneaking a look over at her hair. He noticed immediately that she was looking at him now, and he instantly looked away.

Bulma smiled. Yes, he was still interested, no matter how much he tried pretending he wasn't. The small self-esteem boost lightened her mood, which was obvious in her teasing tone.

"I'm curious. How did Trunks go running into mud when he was in his crib, about to take a nap?"

Vegeta shrugged, and stayed silent. He'd delivered his dirty son to the boy's mother (he did not trust that old blonde woman near his boy, no matter what Bulma said), and now his obligation was done. It was time for him to leave.

"Well. I'm going to have to give him a bath. You want to help?"

"No," came the immediate, disgusted response.

"No family bath time?" Bulma teased. At the use of the word, the small hairs on the back of Vegeta's neck started to rise.

"Woman, we are not a _family_," Vegeta spat out, his eyes darkening with warning. Bulma looked at him in confusion, which only made him clench his fists tightly to keep his anger in check. "Don't ever insinuate something like that again."

Before she could even think of a response, the prince abruptly stalked away. Bulma sighed as she watched him walk away.

"Shit!" Trunks chirped up happily. "Shit!"

"You said it, kid," Bulma said under her breath, watching as Vegeta disappeared out of sight. She looked down at her son and smiled. "Alright, you, let's go get you cleaned up. You're a mess!"

Twenty minutes later, Bulma was busy bathing Trunks as he splashed away and made a mess in the bathroom. Meanwhile, Vegeta was sitting on the domed roof of the compound, tracking every movement they were making while he brooded over his defensive reaction. It wasn't hard to find the source. At the use of the word family, a familiar conversation immediately came to mind…

"_What do you do if they don't want to give you answers?"_

"_Cause physical pain."_

"_And if they still won't give you answers?"_

"_Cause emotional pain."_

"_How do you do that?"_

"_Threaten the family. If that doesn't work, then kill the family one by one."_

"_Very good. Family is always a man's biggest weakness. Always remember that."_

Vegeta frowned and pulled up a knee to his chest. That lesson had been engraved in him, and he personally had put it to work thousands of times. He'd always prided himself on having no one. No parents, no siblings, no children.

He shook his head and ran a hand up through his hair. There was no one in the universe who was a threat now. No one was going to show up and use Trunks or Bulma as leverage against him. They weren't a weakness, no matter what his instincts were telling him.

But try as he might, he just couldn't shake that negative connotation. For years he had mocked the men he slaughtered for being so weak to have and care for a family. And now he, of all people, was on the other side.

Vegeta laid down on the roof as best he could, covered his eyes with his arm, and sighed.

He stayed that way for a long time.

* * *

Bulma was off her game. And the more she tried to get her focus back, she couldn't. Her frustration was mounting by the second. She was doing a simple soldering job, something she had mastered when she still had baby teeth. It was not this difficult!

She almost howled when she burned through a wire for the third time. Her patience snapped and she angrily tossed her mask aside. She should have been done with this a long time ago, and would have been, if it wasn't for her thoughts constantly revolving around Vegeta.

She huffed. Who cared that the jerk didn't think of them as a family? She sure didn't. She didn't need his approval for anything. Looking at the circuit board in front of her, she forced herself to focus and stop thinking about him. The sooner she could finish, the sooner she could go upstairs and see what they were having for dinner.

She was just about to start again when her cell phone vibrated. Peering over, she saw that it was a text message from Yamcha.

_Hey B! Haven't heard from ya. We on for tonight?_

Bulma stared blankly at the phone for a few seconds until it finally dawned on her what Yamcha was talking about. That's right! He had invited her out to some club or something like that. She shook her head, having completely forgotten. Turning back to her work, she contemplated whether or not to take him up on the offer. It had been a long time since she had ventured out on the town.

Working with a steady hand, it finally became an easy decision. Why _shouldn't _she go enjoy a nice evening with a close friend? She had earned herself a nice little break. Besides, she hadn't been planning on working tomorrow, so it didn't matter if she got back late.

She finished her work with a steady hand in no time, and then reached for her phone to text him back.

_Sure thing. Come pick me up!_

About an hour later, Vegeta easily hopped down off the roof. If there was one thing that made staying on Earth worth it, it was the food, hands down. Bulma's mother was a bizarre woman to say the least, but damn could she cook. He could already smell dinner cooking, and he already knew it was going to be mouthwatering.

He entered through the kitchen door, and he was not disappointed. The woman was cooking along with two bots helping. There must have been at least 30 steaks being prepared simultaneously in their impressive kitchen. Trunks was already seated in his high chair, and he was eagerly banging a spoon against his tray in anticipation for dinner. Bunny turned to Vegeta as soon as he entered and beamed at him.

"Vegeta, honey, I'm making your favorite!"

Vegeta grunted and sat down heavily into a chair at the table. "Good," he said gruffly, with the entitlement of a prince. Almost immediately, he started drumming his fingers.

He suddenly reached up to his side and caught the spoon thrown at him. The prince turned and glared at his son, who was covering his mouth with his hands and giggling.

"Do that again, and this is what happens to you," Vegeta growled, before crushing the metal spoon in his hand to pieces. Trunks instantly stopped giggling, his eyes widening in fear.

"He's just playing with you," Bulma's teasing voice cut through as she strolled in. Vegeta glanced over at her briefly with a frown, and then turned back to Trunks. He opened his mouth to say something to his son, but very quickly did a double take with Bulma as he forgot what he was about to say.

"Oh, don't you look wonderful, dear!" Bunny said brightly.

"Thanks, Mom," Bulma said, smiling with pure confidence when she saw the way that Vegeta's eyes were locked only on her, as if she was the only thing he could see. She recognized the look in his eyes. It was the same look that every man had whenever she put her mind to it and dressed up to look good. Her self-esteem as a woman was sky-high though as his dark eyes stalked her while she approached Trunks' high chair.

Oh yes. At the end of the day, he was still a man.

Bulma gave Trunks a peck on the cheek, leaving lipstick on him. She ruffled his hair affectionately, before looking over at Vegeta, whose eyes were hungrily roaming over her breasts. She couldn't blame him, really. Her top accentuated her cleavage perfectly.

"Hey, you. I know I'm gorgeous and I got the goods, but let's have some eye contact," Bulma told him flirtatiously. Vegeta's eyes immediately shot up to hers, before he scowled and looked away, his face burning hot.

"Whatever," he mumbled. Bulma smiled, before looking over at Bunny.

"I'm not sticking around for dinner tonight, Mom. I'm going out," she said, making Vegeta scowl harder as he subtly looked over at Bulma out of the corner of his eye.

"That's alright, dear. I'll save you a plate," Bunny said without losing a beat. She put the last steak into a pot, and then turned the stove off. "I'm going to go tell your father that dinner is ready."

Bulma watched her leave, and then looked over at Vegeta, who was glaring out the window.

"You want me to make you a plate?" she offered.

He shrugged. Bulma rolled her eyes and went over to get him going with his first plate. He could start eating before her parents sat down, and he would still be the last to finish. Not because he ate slow, but just from the sheer volume of food he could put down. She prepared him a plate while making Trunks a bowl as well, with a couple of glances at the time as she did. All the while, she could feel him watching her. She smiled knowingly, knowing he wanted to say something.

Humming to herself, she put the plate down in front of Vegeta, and then gave Trunks a bowl of steak chopped up into little pieces. She was giving Trunks his baby fork when Vegeta finally spoke up.

"You're not going out dressed like that, are you?"

Bulma looked over at him. "Of course I am. What's wrong with how I'm dressed?"

Vegeta eyed her up and down, before frowning and picking up his utensils. He turned his attention to his food. Nothing was wrong with how she was dressed, which was precisely the problem. She was a beautiful woman, but with times like these, when she dressed up, she was breathtaking.

Instead of answering, he changed the topic. "What time are you returning?" he demanded.

"Whenever I feel like it."

"You have to put the boy to bed."

"My mom can do that."

"I don't trust that woman near my son."

"Well, too bad. Deal with it for one night."

"Where are you going that's so important anyways?"

"Why?" Bulma asked him teasingly. "You want to come along?"

"Dream on, woman," Vegeta scoffed, cutting into his first steak of the night. Bulma snickered and handed Trunks a sippy cup.

"Yamcha invited me to go see some new club his friend just opened, no big deal. Maybe get some dinner first."

Vegeta chomped on his meat much harder than necessary. Yamcha? She was going out with that fool while wearing that? He swallowed and cut another piece, keeping his eyes down.

"There is food here. Your mother cooked," he said gruffly. Why was she going out to get dinner when there was dinner there? It was absolutely absurd. He cut into the steak harder.

"You don't want me to go?" Bulma asked him with a knowing smile. "All you have to do is ask me nicely to stay with you, dear prince."

"I don't give a shit where you go or what you do. Stay out all night if you want with that blasted fool. See if I care," Vegeta shot back, his words coming out a little too fast.

"Maybe I will stay out all night then."

"Fine by me. Do whatever the hell you want."

"Alright then."

"Good."

"Great."

"Fantastic."

"Wonderful."

Vegeta gave her a dark glare, before proceeding to ignore her completely as he focused on his food. What the hell did he care? She meant nothing to him. She could stay out with him all damn night if that's what she wanted. It mattered little to him.

They both heard the car horn outside. Vegeta kept his eyes down as Bulma gave Trunks as much of a hug as she could. She then let her fingers run lightly across the back of Vegeta's shoulders as she walked around him, making the prince stop chewing. Her touch gave him chills.

"I'll see you two later," Bulma said, giving Trunks another wave right as her parents walked in.

Vegeta stayed silent, and resumed his dinner while the Briefs said their goodbyes. He reached to the center of the table where there was bread, and ripped off a bite with his teeth. Without even wanting to, he started tracking her weak ki as she went outside to meet Yamcha.

Why was she even going out with such a weakling? What if something happened? That fool couldn't protect her if some piece of shit wanted to start something. Hell, Yamcha would probably die trying.

Vegeta snorted. He would give up anything to see that happen.

"Food! Food! More food!" Trunks started screaming. He hurled his bowl right at Vegeta, who again had to quickly get a hand up. He gave Trunks a furious look, and the boy shrank back, pouting.

"Do that again, and you die, my son or not," Vegeta warned him.

"Die, die, die, die-"

"There you go, Trunks! Some more food for a growing boy!" Bunny said, handing him another bowl while Vegeta sighed and rubbed at his eyes. Dinner with Bulma's parents and his crazy infant son. Just what he always wanted.

He looked over at the time on the stove. 6:48pm. He scoffed. Who cared that Bulma wasn't there anyways? The house would survive without her.

It unfortunately turned out to be a very long night:

At 7:51pm, Trunks threw a tantrum because he didn't want to go to bed. He threw a toy baseball with remarkable strength and shattered a glass china set.

At 7:53pm, the entire planet came dangerously close to being destroyed when Trunks threw that same baseball at his father's head – and actually managed to hit him.

At 8:32pm, the boy finally fell asleep. It was only because Vegeta was standing over his crib, threatening him with sleep or death.

At 8:50pm, Vegeta was wondering what the hell a club was, and what time they closed. He contemplated asking Bunny, before mentally kicking himself. He didn't care.

At 9:02pm, Bunny forced him to taste some liquid concoction she created. Almost immediately, he started feeling warm all over. He resolved never to drink anything that crazy woman offered him again.

At 9:31pm, Vegeta was surfing channels on the television, since the woman wasn't around to watch her ridiculous romantic bullshit. Unfortunately, Bulma had put parental controls on all of the good channels, and he didn't know the password to unlock it. He went to Bunny and ordered her to give him the password. She didn't know it but gave him Bulma's cell phone number so he could call her and ask for it. He broke the remote in half.

At 12:03am, Vegeta was in bed, wide awake. He rolled onto his back and glared up at the ceiling. He stayed that way for about half an hour, before rolling again onto his stomach. He buried his face into his pillow. He was tired and wanted to sleep, but it just was not coming. Not with his subconscious wondering when the hell Bulma was coming home. He growled and grabbed his pillow, pulling it over his head. Let her stay out all damn night.

At 1:25am, Vegeta threw the pillow off him, and then threw his blankets off too. He reined in a scream of frustration, before marching downstairs.

At 2:30am, Vegeta was standing at a window in the dark living room, his arms angrily crossed over his bare chest. Goddamn woman. Where the hell was she? This was far too late to be outside when one was as weak as she was. This planet had its fair share of scum. What if the idiot woman got killed? She better _not_ have, he immediately resolved, a muscle in his jaw flexing.

Finally, two hours later, he saw headlights from a car. Vegeta instantly walked away from the window over to the door, throwing it open. He stood in the doorway, uncaring that he was barefoot and bare-chested. Coming home at this hour was fucking ridiculous, that's what it was, and he was going to give the woman a piece of his mind. His jaw set as he glared at Yamcha walking with Bulma up to the door. His stomach churned with jealousy that he was struggling to rein in. He clenched his fists tightly.

Yamcha and Bulma were both laughing over something when Vegeta angrily cut in.

"Woman, do you know what time it is? The sun is close to rising!" Vegeta barked at Bulma as soon as she was close enough. She gave him a loose smile.

"So? You said I could go out all night, didn't you?"

Vegeta frowned, eyeing her closely. She'd been drinking. He could hear it in her voice.

"Lighten up, Vegeta! She was with me."

"Precisely why I couldn't relax all goddamn night," Vegeta sneered, eyeing Yamcha with contempt. "You brought the woman home, now get lost, rodent."

"Hey, don't talk to him like-"

Vegeta suddenly grabbed her by the hand and hauled her inside. He slammed the door shut in Yamcha's face for good measure. And to make himself feel better after a long and miserable night.

"What the HELL, Vegeta!" Bulma shrieked at him. She had nearly lost her balance, but luckily had steadied herself on the wall before an ungraceful fall. After all, she _was _wearing killer thousand-dollar heels.

"That is the last time you stay out at this ridiculous hour!" Vegeta shouted back at her.

"You aren't the boss of ME, buddy! I can do what I want, when I want, how I want!" Bulma yelled back at him while she struggled to remove one of her heels.

"You're a mother now! You're supposed to be HERE, not out there with that moron!" Bulma launched one of her heels right at his head. He easily batted it away, and then scoffed. "Pathetic. Trunks throws harder than you, and he's an infant," Vegeta sneered.

"You can't fucking tell me what to do, Vegeta! If I want to take a break, I'll take a break with whoever I want, for as long as I want!"

"Better take it down a notch," he said with a smirk. "Don't want to wake the boy."

"Who do you think you are?" Bulma snapped, taking her tone down a little bit as she hopped on one foot while trying to remove her other heel. Finally, she got it off. "You're just-you're-you're…" Her voice trailed off as she finally seemed to notice his state of undress. Vegeta raised a confused eyebrow, watching the desire slowly burn in her eyes as she looked him over.

"Sexy. Shit, Vegeta. You're _so_ sexy."

Vegeta blinked at the sudden change in her demeanor as she approached him.

"What?"

His heartbeat picked up a bit as she touched a scar on his chest. He was tense as she trailed her finger down to his stomach, feeling himself getting harder by the second. When she reached the waistband of his shorts, she snapped it playfully while she leaned in close to his ear.

"You don't want to have fun?" she whispered.

"You didn't have enough at your stupid human club?" Vegeta growled. He leaned in close to her neck, closing his eyes and breathing in her scent. There was no scent of Yamcha on her. For the first time all night, he finally felt like he could breathe.

"The kind of fun I'm thinking of is only between me and you," she teased, running her hands up the suddenly hot skin of his chest.

Vegeta grabbed her hands and pulled back, looking her in the eye. He almost sighed in disappointment.

"You're intoxicated."

"What? I'm fine!" Bulma insisted, pulling her hands free. He scowled and shook his head, when she reached up and took his face in her hands. She leaned in close and whispered against his lips. "It's been so long."

"Bulma, I…"

His words were forgotten when she slipped her hand into his shorts. Rational thought immediately left him as he sighed in content against her lips, his eyes drifting closed. Yes, she was right, it had been a very long time…

And then just as fast, rational thought came back to him when she kissed him, and all he could taste was the alcohol. He let it go for a couple of seconds, before pulling away and pulling her hand up. She gave him a look of hurt at his rejection.

"Not here. Upstairs," he told her quietly. It was a good response since it would let him see how well she managed getting upstairs, while also sparing her feelings. He was almost appalled at himself for caring, but he did. Just a little.

"Alright," Bulma said excitedly, taking his hand and leading him to the stairs.

She made it up one step, and would have fallen on her face had he not pulled her back against him. Bulma burst out laughing while Vegeta rolled his eyes. Just like he thought. She would have never lasted.

"You're pathetic," he grumbled as he easily scooped her up into his arms. Bulma instantly wrapped her arms around his neck while he carried her up the stairs. "I ought to leave you in one of the garages. Then you would learn."

Bulma laughed. "You're a good guy, Vegeta. I've always known you were," she told him, kissing him on the cheek before resting her head against his shoulder.

"Hn. Idiot woman," he muttered under his breath, his face burning again.

She was practically sleeping in his arms by the time Vegeta got to her bedroom. He contemplated dropping her on the bed, but then he rationalized that it might wake her up. And he didn't want her to come onto him again. The woman was hard to resist. No doubt, if she had come home sober, they would've been going at it on the stairs right now.

With uncharacteristic care, he laid her down on her bed. She rolled onto her side and clutched her pillow, yawning. Vegeta hovered for a couple seconds to make sure the stupid woman didn't tumble right off the bed, and once satisfied, he turned to leave. A cold shower and hand action was on his agenda, and he needed to get to it.

"Vegeta?"

He paused, and internally groaned.

"What," he spat out impatiently, not turning around.

"We _are _a family."

His shoulders stiffened instinctively.

"I have no family."

"You do now."

Vegeta stood there for a few seconds, thinking about it. The word still brought up bad memories, but it wasn't as bad as it had been earlier. He glanced over his shoulder at her, but she was already asleep. He looked away and walked out, closing the door quietly behind him, grumbling to himself in defeat.

"So it seems."


	6. Overdoing it

Vegeta looked himself over in the mirror in his bathroom. He frowned and brought one arm in front of his bare chest. Making a tight fist, he watched as the muscles in his arm flexed and responded naturally to the movement. His upper lip curled back in disgust at the sight of himself. While any other person would have categorized him as being in outstanding physical shape, the prince knew better.

He had been losing his muscle mass so gradually, he hadn't even really noticed up until a few days ago. It was only then that it finally dawned on him that his clothes weren't fitting him as they once had. He actually had to use a belt to hold up his pants whereas he hadn't needed one before, and his shirts which had once been snug over his chest and shoulders were fitting him loose. He scanned himself one last time, before turning and walking out of the bathroom, flicking the light off behind him.

It was time to get back to his training. Almost three months had passed now since Cell's defeat, and it was hands down the longest period of time he'd ever spent without strenuous physical activity. He never once had to actively look for it when he worked for Frieza; there was always a planet to purge, an assignment to complete, a beating to endure, or a fight to wage. And of course, he'd more than gotten his fill during the three years before the arrival of the androids.

The last few months were a welcomed, and almost necessary, break from all of that. Not for his body, but for his mind. Enough time had now passed for Vegeta to start accepting certain truths. Goku was dead, and was not coming back. He himself had a life of peace now, a bizarre concept that he was still coming to terms with, but he wasn't opposed to it as much as he thought he'd be. In fact, the thought of his new life being disrupted by the violence and chaos that painted the picture of his life prior to Earth made Vegeta feel disgusted. He had lived through that once, and he wasn't going to live through it again.

The only way to ensure such a thing was to be strong enough to protect what was now his: this odd life of peace, and his son.

…Bulma too, he supposed.

Vegeta scowled as he sat down on the edge of his bed. He picked up one of his old Capsule Corp gym shoes and bent over to put it on. He tried clearing his mind in preparation for his first training session in a long time, but all he could think of was the mother of his son.

The prince was many things, but blind was not one of them. He saw the way the beautiful heiress looked at him. She was clearly still interested in him. Her attraction both confused and intrigued him. He saw the romantic bullshit she liked to read in books and watch on the television set. He was nowhere near the kind of men that he saw on those foolish programs. Not even close. Even though he wasn't killing anyone these days, he was still a mean son of a bitch, and that was that. He admitted it. Hell, he was proud of it.

So why on Earth this woman was interested in _him, _of all people, was completely mind-boggling.

Maybe if he knew for certain that her interest was purely and solely sexual, then he wouldn't have been opposed in obliging her. After all, they already had a son together, so it wasn't like before. And, of course, the sex with Bulma had been fantastic. They had great chemistry in the bedroom. He doubted it would be different now.

The prince shook his head as he tied up his laces tightly. He could give her all the sex she wanted until she could no longer stand, and he could protect her from anything she would need protection from. That was already above and beyond what he had ever offered any woman before.

But Bulma wouldn't be content with that type of relationship. He knew that. She wanted more.

Vegeta shook his head again and corrected himself: she _deserved _more. Unfortunately, he didn't know how to give any more than that. Hell, he wasn't sure he even wanted to give her that much.

It was therefore easier not to give anything at all, and keep his distance. Eventually she would tire of him, and he wouldn't have to waste his time thinking of such stupid things.

Standing up, Vegeta started stretching his arms, when he froze. He was feeling a low ki that he didn't recognize. Narrowing his eyes, he walked over to the window and opened it. He sniffed the air and frowned, before climbing out.

On the other side of the compound was a man trying to peek into a window. He couldn't see anything though, and went back over to the door to try knocking again. The man checked his watch to make sure he wasn't running late, when a flame-haired man suddenly dropped from out of nowhere, landing right in front of him. Startled, the man let out a cry of shock as he stumbled back, before falling down.

He barely had any time to recover before Vegeta grabbed one handful of his business suit, roughly hauling him up to his feet.

"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" the prince snarled.

"I… I…" the man stammered out. He was at least five inches taller than Vegeta, but he felt a grand total of five inches tall in the Saiyan's presence. "Um…"

The door opened behind Vegeta, and there was a gasp, before Bulma's voice sounded out.

"Vegeta! Let him go!" The prince glared at the man in front of him for a few more seconds, before reluctantly releasing his grip on his suit. The man slowly adjusted his suit, and then his glasses, breathing out a sigh of relief. Vegeta paid him no mind as he looked over his shoulder at the woman running over.

"You know him?" he demanded.

"Ugh, yes I know him! I was expecting him for an interview!" Bulma loudly informed him. She turned to the man facing them, "I'm so sorry, Profess—oh, wow," she said, forgetting her train of thought as she looked at the handsome man standing in front of her. He had short, cropped black hair, and a finely trimmed goatee. Not to mention, he was looking very sharp in his business suit.

Vegeta raised an eyebrow as he looked at the way Bulma was looking at the newcomer. He wasn't sure he liked it. The man in front of them though just chuckled.

"Professor Oh Wow is close, but it's actually Professor Li," he said with a charming smile. "You could just call me Richard though, Ms. Briefs," he politely added, extending his hand to Bulma.

"Oh, well it's so nice to finally meet you, Richard," Bulma said brightly. Vegeta's eyes narrowed at the way she was blushing. She reached out and took his hand, giving it a strong shake. "Please, just call me Bulma."

"Bulma it is, then."

"I'm so sorry about my friend's rude greeting," Bulma said, giving Vegeta a brief look of anger. Vegeta bared his teeth threateningly at her in response. She looked back at Richard and smiled. "Please, come this way. I was just reading over your CV, and I was very impressed with the quality of your research. I think you would make a great addition to our team…"

Vegeta was left outside as Bulma and the newcomer disappeared into the compound. His hands were clenched into tight fists, and his teeth were grinding together. He did NOT like the way Bulma had smiled and laughed with that man. Quite suddenly, he was reconsidering his stance on wanting her to get tired of him. He had gotten used to being the sole recipient of Bulma's flirtatious nature, and he wasn't sure he wanted her looking at another man the way she looked at him.

It didn't make sense. He should have been pleased. Why wasn't he?

A low growl rose up through his chest, until his ki sparked and a blue aura surrounded him without him even noticing. He didn't have time for this shit; he had to get back to work. He bent his knees a little, and with one easy leap, he cleared the entire compound, landing in the backyard. A few seconds later, and he was back in the gravity room.

He'd been in the gravity room every day for the last month working with Trunks, but this time, he was in there just for himself. He glanced around, remembering the absurd amount of time he spent in there preparing for the androids. A sigh escaped him, and his aura disappeared with it. All that work he'd put in, and he was _still_ just second best. Third best, if Goku had come back to life, he bitterly amended.

His lip twitched in agitation as he walked up to the control panel. It was time to get back to work. He surveyed the settings. The highest he'd done prior to his Super Saiyan transformation was 450G's. He was a Super Saiyan now, so he figured he could handle twice that now. He set the gravity simulator to 900 times Earth's gravity and hit the engage button.

He immediately regretted it. The force overwhelmed him as he collapsed flat on his back, pinned down easily to the floor. He transformed into a Super Saiyan, but could still barely move. In fact, it felt like he was about to be crushed to death.

Shit. He was _seriously _out of shape. Grinding his teeth together, he forced himself to move.

It took him nearly ten minutes just to roll over onto his stomach. It took another ten to crawl back to the control panel. It took another five to reach up high enough to finally disengage the gravity simulator. The forces gratefully lifted, and he collapsed again, sweating profusely and completely exhausted. He gasped for air, his body shaking from the intense strain. His knees and his chest hurt badly from that failed attempt.

It was going to be a very, very long day.

* * *

Bulma was trying her absolute hardest to pay attention to the man in front of her as he ran down his extensive engineering experience. She had already decided within the first five minutes that Richard was the ideal candidate to take over the chief mechanical engineer position in her father's company. The rest was just her drinking in the eye candy that he was. It definitely wouldn't hurt to have someone like him around…

"I heard that you're really making headway on the 3D Navier-Stokes problem."

She blinked, and came out of her daydreaming. She nodded, an exciting smile spreading over her face. "Yes, we're working hard on it. Do you have a lot of experience with fluid dynamics?"

"Of course. I have a lot of experience with many things," he said with a crooked smile.

"Oh really?" Bulma asked, much more flirtatiously than she intended.

His smile spread. "Really."

"Mmm, well, we'll see how things go," she said with a bright smile. She then stood up, and he followed her lead. She reached out her hand to him, and he shook it. "It was great speaking to you, Richard. I'll have my secretary fax over some paperwork for you to fill out, and my father will be in touch with you soon."

"Thank you, Bulma. I'm really looking forward to the opportunity. It was a pleasure meeting you."

"Oh, the pleasure was all mine," she said, walking around her desk as they headed towards the door together.

"You know, whenever you have some free time, I'd love to sit down and talk to you about your research on the Navier-Stokes problem," Richard said. Bulma glanced over at him and he offered her a smile. "I'd love to hear your approach. We could get dinner and talk it over."

"Oh, wow," Bulma laughed. "Was that your way of asking me out on a date?"

"I suppose I'm transparent, huh?" he said sheepishly, blushing a little. "I'm sorry, Bulma. I don't mean to get us started on the wrong foot."

"It's alright. I'll let it slide since you're the best engineer this side of the continent that's not working for us," Bulma teased. "And just to get it out in the open, I don't date anyone in the company. And I don't condone others doing it, but that doesn't stop my employees from having fun on their own time."

"Oh. This is one of _those _companies," Richard said with a smirk.

Bulma laughed, "Hey, so long as everyone does their job when they're here, I couldn't care less about their personal relationships outside of work."

"That makes sense. Well, if you ever do want to make an exception, I'd love to take you out sometime," he said, smiling widely.

Bulma licked her top teeth as she looked Richard over. They hadn't been talking for long, but she liked him. He was handsome, extremely intelligent, and from speaking to his old coworkers prior to his interview, he was a nice guy who was easy and fun to work with. He was the kind of man she had always envisioned herself dating. And he had a great smile.

Technically, she _was _available. Vegeta hadn't given any indication to say that he wanted anything serious with her. He had even explicitly told her several times that he wasn't on Earth for her benefit. Part of Bulma was starting to get tired of waiting around for him to figure out what he wanted. That part of her was really giving serious thought to talking to this man more and seeing what he might have to offer.

The other part of Bulma, though, was still head over heels for the stubborn Saiyan. That part of her won.

She sighed and smiled a little, "I appreciate that, but I'm kind of seeing someone right now. I would have to make sure he's okay with that."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know. Now I went and put my foot in my mouth-"

"Hey, don't worry about it. I'm flattered."

"He's a lucky guy."

Bulma just smiled and nodded, inwardly sighing. If only Vegeta saw it that way…

* * *

It killed him to admit it, even to himself, but he really overdid it this time.

Vegeta was on his hands and knees in the gravity room, his arms shaking as they struggled to hold up his weight. His muscles felt shredded. He had just worked nonstop for eight hours. Eight hours was nothing for him back when he was training for the androids, but after three months of doing nothing physical, it was too much, too soon. He wasn't used to the high gravity anymore, even with his Super Saiyan strength. He had taken it down to 600 times Earth's gravity, refusing to go back down to his old levels out of pride, but he regretted it now. He could barely move, and he felt like vomiting.

He growled low in his throat, feeling ashamed of himself. Had he continued training right after Cell, who knew how far along he could've been by now?

On pure willpower, he managed to get back up to his feet, after a few failed attempts. His knees felt pathetically weak. Very slowly and gingerly, he half walked, half limped out of the gravity room. His muscles were aching fiercely. He cringed at the thought of how sore he was going to be tomorrow, before pushing the thought away. It was his own fault for neglecting his training. He would just have to deal with the pain.

He looked up at his bedroom window warily. It was only two stories off the ground, but right now, it looked like two hundred. But there was absolutely no way he was going to walk through the house and go upstairs the old-fashioned way. He would never make it, and the last thing he wanted was for the humans to start their ridiculous fussing over him.

He took a deep, shaky breath, ignored his screaming muscles, and jumped.

He barely made it. If he wouldn't have grabbed onto the windowsill for dear life, he probably would've fallen. Vegeta thanked his luck that at least he'd left the window open, before rolling into his room and landing in a heap on the floor. He exhaled in relief and rested his head back, half tempted to just crash right where he was.

Stubbornly though, he forced himself to move. He grabbed onto the windowsill and slowly pulled himself up. With all his remaining strength, he shuffled over to his bed and finally collapsed onto it, passed out cold as his body finally gave out to rest.

Meanwhile, Trunks was running as fast as he could away from his mother. She wanted him to go to bed, and he did NOT want to go to bed.

"TRUNKS! Get back here right now, young man!" Bulma yelled, giving chase down the hallway.

Trunks ran faster, as fast as he could with his pajamas on. Unfortunately for Bulma, the little boy already ran as fast as she did at a dead sprint. Even worse, he knew it, so he bolted as soon as he could, as often as he could. Bulma was already out of breath when the boy dashed around a corner. He ducked into a guest room, and hid by the wall. He heard his mother run by a few moments later, and he covered his mouth to stifle a giggle.

When he heard her yelling for him grow faint as she ran further away, Trunks smiled and walked back out into the hallway. He was FREE. Now what was he going to do? He sucked his thumb, and looked left, then right. Finally, he waddled over to the right.

Trunks peeked into one of the rooms with the door barely nudged open, and brightened when he saw that the room was his father's. He hadn't seen Vegeta all day. He shoved the door open and looked around curiously, still sucking his thumb. He frowned. No toys. Boring. Waddling over to the bed, Trunks tilted his head to one side as he looked at his father. Vegeta was out like a light and had one arm hanging over the edge of the bed.

"Da?" he asked shyly. He got no response.

Trunks took his thumb out of his mouth and grabbed Vegeta's hand. He wanted his father to get up and take him outside so he wouldn't have to go to bed. With both hands, he pulled Vegeta's hand as hard as he could, until his face started turning a bright red. Trunks leaned back on his heels, but Vegeta hadn't so much as flinched, much less budged.

Finally, Trunks lost his grip and tumbled backwards head over heels a few times. He whimpered as he sat up, holding his head. That hurt. He rubbed his head a little bit and then got back up, going back over to the bed. He grabbed Vegeta's hand again, but this time, he used his father's arm almost like a rope to climb up onto the bed. Once there, he leaned in extremely close to Vegeta's face, until he was only inches away. He then poked his father right in the eye. This time Vegeta flinched, before giving a low growl without waking up.

Trunks smirked a very Vegeta-like smirk. He then proceeded to climb up onto Vegeta's back, where he sat down. He stretched his legs out and kicked a little. Far from hurting his father, his weight felt good on the prince's sore muscles. Vegeta unconsciously sighed in relief. Trunks turned over so he was on his hands and knees. He blinked as he felt the bare skin under his little hands. His father was warmer than his blanket! Trunks laid down on Vegeta's back, and imitated his sigh. He laid out his arm over Vegeta's side and closed his eyes, pretending to sleep just like his father.

Sometime later, Bulma was about to have a panic attack. She couldn't find Trunks and she was looking _everywhere_. The problem was that the baby was still small enough that he could fit nearly anywhere, and yet he was smart enough to find the most obscure hiding spots. Finally, Bulma decided to track down Vegeta and make him help her find their son. She had tried it the old-fashioned way, but her son's father could find the little boy much faster.

Finally, she reached the prince's room.

"Vegeta, I need your he-" she started, before stopping at the sight in front of her. She was surprised at first, before a huge smile spread over her face. By this time, Trunks had given into his fatigue and genuinely fallen asleep, in the mirror position of Vegeta.

_Oh, they are so adorable! _Bulma thought happily, her heart warming with love at the sight of her favorite boys together. She was going to remove Trunks to let Vegeta be in peace, but first, she was going to get her camera…

* * *

The first thing Vegeta was conscious of was the heat on his back. He frowned and tried moving, but as soon as he did, his muscles protested against the movement, and he immediately stilled. He groaned a little, partly from how sore he was, but mostly out of annoyance that he was in this predicament in the first place.

"Oh good. You're finally awake," Bulma's voice sounded from behind him.

"Hn. Get lost, woman," he grumbled, his eyes still closed.

"Maybe I would, if you weren't a complete idiot," Bulma grumbled back, putting another heating pad on his back. He bit his bottom lip hard to suppress a moan at the sensation. "I checked the logs of the gravity simulator. Didn't I tell you not to go over 500?"

"What?" Vegeta asked in confusion.

Bulma sighed. "Don't you listen to me when I talk to you, Vegeta?"

"When did you tell me this?"

"I told you a couple of weeks ago during dinner, that when you started again, not to go over 500-"

"I don't listen to anyone while I eat, stupid woman," he growled.

"Well, guess what? You should've, because you weren't training at 600G's. You were training at 800! I told you that I hadn't tested it that high, so to keep it under 500. But do you ever listen to me? Noooo," Bulma said, shaking her head with a sigh. "You're lucky you weren't crushed to death, idiot Saiyan."

"Hn. Nothing one night of rest won't cure."

"Vegeta, you've been out for two days."

"Nothing two days of rest won't cure-"

He suddenly flinched, hissing through his nose, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Oh, sorry," Bulma apologized, frowning in concern. She had put the last heating pad a little too low on his back, and the heat had agitated the small stub from his tail. She put the pad up a little higher, and saw him visibly relax.

Vegeta scowled, swallowing heavily. He hadn't felt this bad in a long time, but he kept his mouth shut. Of course, the one time he tuned out the woman, she finally had something useful to say. At least she was being somewhat useful now. He had no idea what she had put on his back, but it felt damn good.

He was drifting off again when he felt her hand running through his hair. He shuddered a little before squinting at her angrily.

"I don't need your help," he bitterly spat out.

"Oooh. Tough talk from someone who probably can't even roll over without help," Bulma teased. She shook her head, smiling a little. "It's alright though, we checked you out, tough guy. You'll be back to your healthy, grouchy self in no time. Your genes are freakishly good. I'm jealous."

He scoffed. "Of course they are. They are far superior to your pathetic ones."

"They really are. I hope Trunks got more of your ability to deal with injuries than he did of mine… though hopefully he got _my_ intelligence…"

Vegeta grunted absent-mindedly while she continued talking, his eyes closed. She was still running her hand through his hair, and it was making it hard for him to pay attention.

"Vegeta?"

"Hn?"

"Take these. They'll make you feel better."

Vegeta squinted and saw that she was offering him some red pills. Without bothering to ask what they were for, he slowly brought his hand up to take them from her. He took them and swallowed them without one word of complaint or one moment of hesitation. When done, he lowered his hand and closed his eyes again, uncaring that she was there as he tried falling asleep again. He knew from experience that the woman would stay with him as long as she wanted when he was injured, regardless of how much he tried pushing her away.

Nonetheless, his trust wasn't lost on Bulma. She lowered her hand and gently massaged the back of his neck, smiling a little when he let out a sound that was a mix between a growl and a purr of content. She had no idea what it was about this Saiyan that still drew her to him, even after all this time. She wanted to say that it was the fact that he was the father of her son, but that wouldn't explain how she had fallen for him before Trunks was even conceived. The picture perfect image of the man in her life had come in today, and still, it was only Vegeta she had eyes for.

There was just something about him. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she knew that it was something wonderful.

Bulma leaned down and kissed him on the cheek.

"Stop doing that already," he grumbled as he frowned.

"What?" she asked him innocently. She leaned down again and kissed him at the edge of his mouth, making his upper lip twitch. "Maybe you prefer closer to here?" she whispered teasingly.

"You are taking advantage of me, woman," he said, even though he wasn't even trying to get her away from him. "That's twice now, including your drunken attempt to seduce me."

Bulma laughed out loud, "Ohh, I see! So that's what I've been doing all this time. Little old me, bullying the big, bad Saiyan Prince to my will. That's how Trunks came along, huh?"

"Damn right. Why else would I have coupled with a hideous woman such as yourself?" Bulma squeezed the back of his neck as hard as she could, and was rewarded with a low growl of pleasure for her effort. "Fuck, that felt good. Do that again, woman," Vegeta almost purred.

"You are such a jackass, I swear," Bulma told him, reaching up and running her hand through his hair again as she sighed. "I don't know why I put up with you."

Vegeta snorted. "I could say the same. Should've left you in the grass with your broken arm that day you tumbled off the ladder. Spared myself the damned trouble."

"I'm glad you didn't. I kinda like Trunks."

"Hn."

"Alright, I'll let you rest now. Let me know if you need anything, okay? And don't you DARE go train again under those ridiculous levels, you hear me?"

Vegeta growled, "Woman, I will do what I want-"

"Fine. When you get hurt again, I'll have my mom come take care of you."

Silence for a moment, before finally: "…Nothing over 500, right?"

"Yup. Now get some rest."

"Get lost and I will," he sneered.

Ignoring how much it hurt to move, Vegeta shifted over and stubbornly buried his face into his pillow so she couldn't kiss him again. Bulma though was making sure none of the heating pads had moved with his movement. She left the muscle relaxants on the nightstand by his bed, gave him a glance, and then finally got up.

"Sleep well and feel better, Vegeta."

She got no response. Rolling her eyes, she walked out of the room, turning off the light and closing the door quietly behind her. No, she didn't know what it was about Vegeta that kept her so interested. But for him, she was willing to be patient. After all, her father always said that good things come to those who wait.

Hopefully in the end, her patience would be worth it.


	7. Hot swim

Vegeta was outside, laying down on the grass with his hands folded behind his head. He had one knee up and his other leg crossed on it. Every few seconds, Trunks dashed by him, sometimes leaping over his father. Vegeta was dozing though and didn't seem to even notice.

Dr. Briefs observed them both through the kitchen window. He chuckled to himself and brought up his coffee mug, taking a sip. His wife wasn't the only one who saw the obvious between Bulma and Vegeta.

He liked Vegeta well enough. The man was intimidating, but any fear of the Saiyan he had once possessed disappeared years ago when his cat Scratch jumped onto Vegeta's lap one morning, interrupting the prince's breakfast. Vegeta had grabbed the cat by the scruff of the neck, lifted it, and observed it curiously, as though it was the strangest thing he'd ever seen. He'd brought the cat up close to sniff it, when Scratch gave a warning swipe with his paw that Vegeta had quickly dodged. He'd then given a snort of disgust, and lowered the cat back down to the floor before continuing his breakfast. To his annoyance and Dr. Briefs' supreme amusement, Scratch had rubbed up against Vegeta's legs, which the prince had reluctantly tolerated for the rest of his breakfast.

The boy had been all right in his book ever since. Dr. Briefs finished off his coffee a few minutes later, and then read over the day's newspaper a bit. Finally, he wandered outside to have a talk with the prince.

Vegeta was still on the grass with his eyes closed, but this time he was actually tossing a very small blue ki ball back and forth with Trunks. The little boy was sitting a few feet away from his father's side, and was batting the ki ball back to his father like it was a beach ball. No matter how hard or fast Trunks did it, and no matter where he sent the ki ball, his father effortlessly caught it and sent it back with one hand. The fact that Vegeta was doing it all with his eyes closed had the little boy thinking his father was some kind of magician, like the ones he saw on TV.

"Son, can I have a word?"

Vegeta exhaled deeply in annoyance. He had told Bulma's father at least a hundred times that he was NOT his son, but that didn't stop Dr. Briefs from calling him that. Finally, Vegeta had just given up on correcting him. The prince was stubborn, but the Briefs were another brand of stubborn that gave him a headache. It was just easier not to even bother with it.

"What do you want, old man?" Vegeta demanded irritably, not opening his eyes and not interrupting his Saiyan game of catch with Trunks.

"It's about that daughter of mine."

Vegeta frowned. He had been trying to keep his thoughts free of her, and wasn't doing such a great job of it.

"What about her?" he asked neutrally.

"You have my permission, dear boy."

"Enlighten me, old man. What exactly do you think I require your _permission _for?" Vegeta sneered.

"Well that's easy enough. Marrying my daughter, of course."

This time Vegeta opened his eyes in surprise. He looked up at the old man who was standing right next to him, extinguishing the ball of ki when Trunks sent it back to him without even looking at it.

"Da, play!" Vegeta grunted when Trunks suddenly dived hard onto his chest. The little boy leaned in extremely close to Vegeta's face. The prince's eye twitched in irritation as Trunks gave him his most charming smile. "Peeeese?"

"Get off me, boy," Vegeta growled angrily, swatting Trunks off him and sending the little boy tumbling onto the grass. The move would have likely seriously injured a human infant, but Trunks just sat back up and pouted at his father as Dr. Briefs chuckled.

"Da, meanies!" Trunks cried loudly, his eyes filling with tears.

"You're damn right, kid," Vegeta told him as he got up to his feet. He then looked over at the brilliant scientist next to him. "Now then. What were you saying?"

"I said, that if you want to marry Bulma, you have my permission."

Vegeta stared at Dr. Briefs blankly. "Marry Bulma?" he echoed, as if verifying that they were indeed talking about what he thought they were talking about.

"Why, yes. You're both living here together, and you already have a fine boy together. Why wouldn't you two get married?"

"Do you want me to sort through the reasons alphabetically, or by importance?" Vegeta snarled at him, crossing his arms firmly over his chest as Trunks gripped tight handfuls of his jeans. "Rest assured that I will _never _participate in such an idiotic human ritual such as marriage."

Dr. Briefs chuckled. "Marriage is far more than a ritual, my boy. It's about commitment. It's about-"

"Old man, are you deaf? I am not marrying your daughter!" Vegeta barked out, shaking his leg to try to shake off his son. The little boy though wasn't having it.

"Well, alright. But if you have a change of heart, you can go right ahead."

"I won't," Vegeta said tersely, before finally giving his leg one good shake that forced Trunks to let go. Trunks sat down on the grass, covered his face with his hands, and burst into tears.

"Now see what you did, old man?" the prince barked, gesturing down in frustration to the toddler.

Dr. Briefs chuckled and bent over as much as he could.

"Grandson," he said gently. Trunks sniffed and peeked up at him through his fingers. "How about a swimming session?"

"YEAH!" Trunks screamed happily, his tears completely forgotten as he clapped in excitement.

"Hn," Vegeta grunted, watching as Trunks ran into his grandfather's arms. The prince shook his head and muttered under his breath, "Spoiling him. All of you."

"What did you say, son?"

"Nothing," Vegeta snapped harshly. "Since you're taking the brat, I will resume my training."

"Oh, about that. Bulma's mother bought you some swimming trunks. We figured maybe you would want to take advantage of the new pool we just finished constructing in the rec building."

"Why the hell would I want to do that?" Vegeta sneered in disgust.

"Because, we have programmed the water to be adjustable in density. That means walking through it would be quite difficult if you were to set it that way. It would give you a good work-out without straining yourself too badly, my boy. I know you still aren't quite right after pushing so hard a few weeks ago."

Vegeta's face flushed red in embarrassment as he barked, "I am FINE! I merely required some days of rest!"

Alright - so maybe he had required a _little_ more than that. It had taken him nearly a full week to recover enough from that botched session to truly begin training again, and he was _still _hurting. If he tried anything over 100G's, his knees would suddenly threaten to give out and his soreness would come back with a vengeance. It was humiliating that the old man had even noticed such a thing.

Dr. Briefs chuckled and leaned back a bit as Trunks tried reaching up to yank on his mustache.

"Of course, son. It was just a suggestion."

"Hn. Keep your ridiculous suggestions to yourself, old man," the prince growled.

Vegeta then leapt up to his room and went through the window. He grumbled under his breath about how he needed to get a room with a balcony, like Bulma's. The balcony would let in a lot more fresh air into his room. He hadn't cared when he first chose his room, but then again, he had never planned on staying in the compound permanently. He made a mental note to prowl that night for something better. After all, he deserved it.

_Marriage. _Vegeta snorted as he started changing into his training gear, shaking his head. And with Bulma of all people.

_That_ would be the day.

* * *

Later that day, Bulma was working up a sweat in a workout of her own after work. She was running on a treadmill with her earphones in. She'd be damned if her one-year-old son could run faster than she could, half-Saiyan or not. Of course, she had no hope of keeping up with the speed and strength that Trunks was gaining almost every day, but a girl had to try.

She nodded and smiled politely in greeting as some of her employees waved at her. The Capsule Corp rec building was open to any employee and their family, and it only strengthened the working relationships they all had. Bulma had employees who were brilliant but also worked hard for her and her father, and little things like this were the reason why.

"I didn't take you to be a runner."

Bulma looked over in surprise, before grinning and taking out her earphones.

"I'm a parent of a one-year-old boy. It's a prerequisite to be a runner," she said, slightly out of breath. She reached in front of her and slowed down the treadmill to a good walking pace, before looking over at the man who was getting onto the treadmill next to her.

"Ah, that's right. Kids. Yeah, that'll do it," Richard said with a chuckle. He surveyed the impressive treadmill he was on, trying to figure out all of the settings.

"Do you have any?" Bulma asked, reaching for her water bottle and taking a good chug from it.

"One. A five-year-old girl. Already blowing things up in my lab whenever she stays at my place."

"Sounds like my kind of kid," Bulma laughed. "You should bring her to work one day so I can meet her."

"I would, but I kind of value my new job," he laughed.

Meanwhile, Vegeta had finally warmed to the idea of the swimming pool Dr. Briefs had told him about. It would do him well to alter his training sessions and try something different. The idea of a new kind of resistance training that didn't involve gravity was intriguing. Finally, he had shut down the gravity simulator and gone back up to his room. After a quick shower, he had scoured his room, and finally found what he was looking for.

He frowned and curiously felt the material of the swimming trunks. It was much different than any of his other clothes. At least they were black and not some other ridiculous color, he brooded to himself as he stood up and put the swimming trunks up over his shoulder. He then headed out of his room to go find this _swimming pool._

It finally dawned on Vegeta where it was. He looked up at the building in front of him. He'd noticed it, of course. It was not too far from the compound. He had just assumed that it was part of the labs since he'd only seen employees going into it. Upon further observation though, he realized that none of them seemed dressed for work.

Naturally curious, Vegeta was strolling in when he ran into a waist-high turnstile of some kind. He nudged it, but it didn't move. There was a card swipe next to it with a red light. Vegeta tried figuring it out for a few seconds, and finally, his patience snapped. He gripped the metal turnstile and ripped it clear off, throwing it over his shoulder.

The prince walked in, looked around, and then finally settled his eyes on a young man behind a large desk. The man was staring at Vegeta with wide eyes, his jaw dropped.

"Where is the swimming pool?" Vegeta demanded angrily.

The man immediately pointed. "Down the hall. Men's locker room is on the right. Have to go through there to get to the pool."

"Hn."

Vegeta was headed that way, when he suddenly looked up. Bulma was upstairs. He hesitated for a second, before frowning and walking over to the stairs instead. He needed to have a little _chat _with her after his conversation with her father.

Moments later, the prince scanned the gym over. It was the strangest thing he'd ever seen.

_So this is how humans train, _he mused to himself, observing some men bench pressing weights. They seemed to really be struggling. Curious, Vegeta walked over and examined the weights. He grabbed the heaviest one and lifted it with one hand like it was nothing. He scoffed, and put it back. He'd known that humans were weak, but this was completely ridiculous. Trunks would likely overpower all of them before his third birthday.

"Hey, Vegeta!"

The prince turned and his eyes immediately settled on Bulma's. She waved to him, and he walked over. His gaze darkened considerably when he saw the man on the treadmill next to her. Didn't he have anywhere else to go?

"Well, look at who decided to broaden his horizons away from the gravity simulator," Bulma teased as Vegeta walked up.

"Hn."

Vegeta nonchalantly looked her over. Her hair had grown out now, and she had it tied back. She was wearing a white tank top which was very snug with some loose sweat pants. Vegeta was momentarily distracted by the sight of her flushed features and the sweat running down the hollow of her throat. The last time he'd seen her sweating like this was when she was naked, panting underneath him…

"Vegeta?" He blinked, and came out of his wonderful daydream. Bulma raised an eyebrow as she slowed down her treadmill again. "Did you want to work out here?"

The prince scoffed. "Woman, please. There is nothing here that would pose any type of challenge."

"I don't know. I always thought running was tough," Richard chimed in good-naturedly. Vegeta's eyes shifted over and settled on his, and suddenly, the engineer wished he had stayed silent when he saw the death glare he was receiving.

"Vegeta, this is our new _Chief Mechanical Engineer_, Richard," Bulma said, making it clear with the warning in her tone that she wasn't going to tolerate any misbehavior from the Saiyan. "Richard, this is my…"

The heiress briefly paused, her mind drawing a momentary blank. Vegeta was her what, exactly? Friend? Boyfriend? Used-to-be-lover? _Baby daddy? _

Vegeta looked back at her, curiosity in his dark eyes at her pause. Finally, Bulma went for the simple choice.

"…friend, Vegeta," she finally finished. She gave the prince a teasing look before adding, "He has a little bit of an _attitude, _but he grows on you after a while."

"Nice to officially meet you, Vegeta," Richard nervously said. He reached over as far as he could, extending his hand to the Saiyan. Vegeta just stared at him with his most intense glare, until the engineer awkwardly withdrew his hand.

"Richard," Vegeta finally said, the name rolling off his tongue with clear disdain. "From the readings I've done, doesn't that make your nickname _Dick_?"

"Vegeta, behave," Bulma hissed under her breath.

"I suppose it does, though I haven't had anyone call me that since high school," Richard awkwardly replied. Speaking to the Saiyan made it feel as though he were indeed a freshman in high school again, coming face to face with the meanest senior in school.

"Pity," Vegeta sneered.

The engineer gave the prince a strained smile, before telling Bulma, "You know, I think I'm going to head out. See you at work tomorrow?"

"Sure thing," Bulma told him politely. She stopped the treadmill and leaned over the panel, watching as Richard quickly got his things and scurried away.

Once he was gone, she turned her fiery gaze down to the Saiyan in front of her.

"Did you need something, Vegeta?" Bulma asked him with a hint of attitude. The prince shrugged, resisting a smirk. Now that the stupid human was gone, he could relax some.

"_Friends?_" Vegeta asked, arching an eyebrow in amusement.

"Well, what else would you classify us as?" Bulma shot at him. "If you have something better, I'd love to hear it."

"Hn." He tilted his head and regarded the machine she was on. "What is this?" he finally asked, frowning in curiosity as he came to stand next to her.

"It's called a treadmill," Bulma explained, her temper dissipating at the genuine confusion on his face.

"What's it for?" he demanded.

"It's to run on, so you can work out."

Bulma's breath caught a little when the Saiyan easily lifted himself up so he was on the treadmill with her. He stood just behind her, and put his hands on the hand grips next to her, effectively trapping her.

Vegeta leaned in close to her from behind. His tone was playful when he whispered in her ear, "Why not just run outside, foolish woman?"

His breath was cool on her sweaty skin. She released a breath to regain her bearings which had been lost in a hurry from his proximity, before looking over her shoulder at him.

"Because I'd rather work out here in private where no one can interrupt me."

"You let that fool interrupt you," Vegeta growled, resisting the urge to press himself against her. The scent of her sweat was bringing back delicious memories that his body remembered with impeccable clarity.

"Jealous, are we?" Bulma asked knowingly.

Vegeta snorted. "Jealous of what? Him? Don't make me laugh. He isn't the man I am."

"Mhmm, suuure," Bulma said, reaching out and putting her hands over Vegeta's. He didn't draw away, and her curiosity was piqued. "You're transparent, dear prince."

He chuckled from behind her, "Do you know what your father told me today, woman?"

"What?"

"He said I could marry you if I wanted to. Now who would give him such an absurd idea?"

"My mother, probably," Bulma replied as calm as she could, her heart suddenly racing when she felt him breathing in right over her neck. He was so close, that she would be melting into him if she just leaned back enough to make contact…

"As if I'd ever marry _you_," he muttered.

"Hmph. I could do much better anyways," Bulma replied with an air of confidence that only turned on the already aroused Saiyan behind her even more. Vegeta frowned and backed away enough so that she wouldn't notice, before finally withdrawing from her completely, lest he take her right there on the treadmill.

"Good. You stink anyways, woman. Haven't you heard of a shower?" he snapped gruffly, turning and getting off the treadmill, giving her his back. One hand ghosted down to the crotch of his jeans where he readjusted things as best he could. He winced a little; the denim was not accommodating _at all._

"Ugh!" Bulma shrieked in frustration, unaware of what he was doing as she glared at his back. "You are such a jerk. Did you just come find me to bother the hell out of me?"

"Don't flatter yourself," he sneered. "Your father mentioned a swimming pool with adjustable density. I order you to take me there at once."

"Fine," Bulma huffed, getting down from the treadmill. He looked over his shoulder at her. "If it'll get me away from you sooner. Come on, _your highness, _it's this way."

He frowned and followed her in silence. They stopped a couple of times when he saw a machine that caught his interest. Bulma showed him how to work most of them, but none of them were any kind of challenge and he grew bored quickly. Bulma rolled her eyes and led him back downstairs, deep down contemplating making Vegeta his very own, special gym. She could stock it with weights that would actually give the prince a workout.

Finally, they stopped in front of the men's locker room. The door was locked, but Bulma swiped her ID, and opened the door for him.

"Here you go, your majesty," she teased. "No one really uses the pool at this hour, so you should be good to go. You should be able to figure out how to change the water density on your own."

Vegeta's nose twitched as he poked his head into the locker room. "What the hell is that blasted smell?" he asked in disgust.

"That's the chlorine."

"The what?"

"It's a chemical to keep the pool clean."

"Hn."

With that, he walked right into the locker room, with not a word of thanks or a glance back at her. Bulma rolled her eyes and walked off. The Saiyan was going to be the death of her.

Vegeta stripped down and got into his swimming trunks, which came down just below his knees. He left his clothes and shoes on a random bench, and then walked out into the pool area. He cringed in disgust; that chlorine smell was completely overwhelming him. He walked over to the edge of the pool and squatted down.

The pool was Olympic sized, the water a clear blue. He gazed down at it, and then scooped up a handful of the warm water. He sniffed it in his hand, and then ventured a small taste. He gagged and dropped the rest of the water with a sneer. Disgusting. He stood up and crossed his arms over his chest, frowning as he stared down at the water.

He stood there for a long time, losing himself in his thoughts. The last time he'd really been in water was on Namek. It momentarily struck him how things had changed. He'd gone from searching for the magical Dragon Balls, to going for a swim in Bulma's company pool. He stared at his distorted reflection, wondering when things had changed. When _he _had changed. Was it when he died on Namek? When he was brought back to life? He wasn't quite sure anymore.

"Are you just going to stand there all day?" a teasing voice asked him from behind.

Vegeta blinked and looked over his shoulder as Bulma came up to him. All of his brooding thoughts disappeared when he saw the blue bikini she was now in. Her figure was as perfect as it had always been. He devoured every inch of her as she spread out a towel near the edge of the pool. His eyes quickly shot up to hers when she turned to face him again, and he glared at her.

"Woman, stop stalking me," he growled at her, turning his gaze back to the pool.

"I was doing no such thing. I've been in here every other day with Trunks, trying to get him comfortable in the water so he can learn to swim. Tonight I felt like coming in for me."

"Knowing I was here?" he snorted. She shrugged, coming up next to him.

"So what? Maybe I like your company," she flirted with him. He looked at her and raised an eyebrow, and she nudged him playfully. "So are you going to stand here all day, or what? Why haven't you gotten in yet?"

"I can't swim," Vegeta deadpanned.

"Oh, give me a break," Bulma laughed, before shoving him towards the pool.

She wasn't prepared for Vegeta actually falling in.

And she was definitely not prepared for his sudden thrashing in the water as he tried staying above the surface to breathe.

Her eyes widened as he desperately gasped for air, before falling under again as he swung out wildly. Shit, he was serious; he really couldn't swim!

"Vegeta!" Bulma yelled out in alarm, dropping to her knees by the pool. She reached out her hand to him. "Vegeta, grab here!"

Vegeta broke the surface and grabbed her forearm immediately. Bulma barely had enough time to see the smirk creep over his face, before he suddenly hauled her headfirst into the water with him.

Bulma swam up and gasped for air. She wiped the water out of her eyes, and then glared in the direction of the Saiyan a few feet away from her in the water. Vegeta was laughing almost hysterically as he floated on his back. Bulma growled and purposely splashed him, making sure the water hit him in the face.

"Oh, your face," Vegeta wheezed, before bursting into another round of laughter at her action. "Fuck. That was worth it."

"One day, Vegeta, you are going to be in real trouble, and I'm going to think you're playing a stupid joke, and then you'll be dead, you idiot!" Bulma shrieked at him.

Vegeta chuckled and rolled over, disappearing under the water. He emerged a second later, right behind her.

"Don't count on it, woman," he whispered, startling her.

Bulma turned around to hit him for being such a jerk, when her thoughts came to a halt at the sight of him. His dark hair was soaking wet, and was hanging in his eyes and on his shoulders. With the rare playful look in his eyes, and the even more rare smile on his face, he looked amazing and unbelievably handsome.

Vegeta raised an eyebrow at the way she was looking at him. His smile melted into a frown when she reached up to him. He swallowed and stayed still as she brushed the hair out of his eyes. He closed his eyes a little at her touch. When he looked back, she was inches away from him. Bulma wrapped her arms around his neck as they bobbed together in the water.

He wanted to draw away, but he couldn't find the strength to tear himself from her. The peace he felt in this moment, with the quiet, the water, and Bulma, was almost unheard of. He wanted it to last as long as it could.

"So this is what friends are good for," Vegeta said in a low voice.

"I don't think _friends_ quite captures us," Bulma whispered against his lips.

Vegeta leaned in almost unconsciously for a kiss, and hesitated at the last second. He shook his head before looking away. He was going to make up some bullshit excuse to leave when Bulma turned his head back and kissed him. His eyes widened in surprise, but then drifted closed after a second as he finally surrendered. He couldn't deny it to himself anymore. He wanted her.

Before he knew it, his back was against the wall of the pool. They kissed each other hungrily, the warm water between them suddenly feeling cold compared to their heat. He sighed into the kiss and let her take control of it, grunting when she eagerly explored the moistness of his mouth at will. Bulma ran her hands through his hair as his hands moved up her back. Finally, his hands reached her bikini top. His fingers deftly undid it, and he pulled away from her long enough to pull it off.

Vegeta hooked his hands underneath her thighs, lifting her up against him. Bulma braced one hand on the edge of the pool, her other hand gripping a handful of Vegeta's hair. She moaned when she felt him ravishing her bare breasts with his hot mouth, little shocks of pleasure prickling her skin.

Vegeta suddenly stopped his ministrations and cursed against her skin. Bulma blinked in surprise, but had no time to react before they were both out of the water. She opened her mouth to ask what was going on, when he suddenly had her against the wall. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers, frowning as he did. Immediately, Bulma felt a warmth spread over her body from head to toe. It took her a few seconds to realize that she was feeling his ki as he dried them both off.

She nuzzled her nose lovingly against his, and he exhaled slowly when she did.

"Don't like the smell of the pool, huh?" she whispered.

"Maybe I don't like the smell of _you_," he whispered back. Bulma could feel the smirk on his face. She reached up to his hair, to find it standing up again. The warmth suddenly left them both, but it was replaced by his delicious heat as he pressed himself against her.

"I don't know, Prince Vegeta," Bulma said, her tone seductive and sexy as she slipped one hand into his swimming trunks. Vegeta swallowed as he felt her fingers wrap around him, grunting in pleasure against her lips when she started stroking him. "Something tells me that you like what you're seeing and smelling."

"What, you think that has something to do with you?" he teased, leaning in close to her neck. He trailed his tongue by her ear, before nipping at it as he pushed himself even more into her hand.

"Doesn't it?" she asked breathlessly.

"No. I woke up with it," he said, his voice deep and husky as he chuckled.

"You've had an erection for almost 12 hours? That's what I would call a medical emergency."

"Help me take care of it then, woman."

"What am I, your on-demand sex slave-"

Vegeta hitched her up against him, forcing her up. Her words died when his mouth went back to devouring her bare skin as he forced her to wrap her legs around him. He absent-mindedly applauded himself for discovering a way to shut the woman up when he heard her breathy moans. Her hands were in his hair again as he eagerly thrust up against her, only two layers of clothes separating them.

"Vegeta," Bulma breathed out, making his heartbeat accelerate. It frightened him how much he had missed this. Feeling her against him. Hearing her saying his name like that. Smelling the intoxicating scent of her sweat and arousal. Tasting her lips and her skin. It was driving him crazy. All of it. He had to have her.

He was impatiently tugging his shorts down when she pulled his head back. He instinctively parted his lips, anticipating a kiss, but didn't get it.

"Wait. Damn it," she sighed. "You need a condom this time."

Vegeta blinked up at her. If it wasn't for his surprise, he was sure he would've dropped her.

"What?" he finally asked breathlessly.

"I have some in my room. It won't take long, I promise," Bulma said, her hands on the sides of his face. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her.

He reached up with one hand and cupped one of her breasts. Bulma visibly shuddered. The feel of his rough hands on her soft skin never failed to give her chills of pleasure.

"It doesn't matter. I don't care anymore. Here. Now," Vegeta said, his voice husky and raw with desire. He reached down with his other hand to finish lowering his shorts.

"Vegeta," Bulma said, grabbing his face and forcing him to look at her again. "It's not just about you. I'm not about to take the chance of getting pregnant again."

Vegeta's eyes narrowed. He lowered her down so she was standing in front of him as he glared at her.

"No," he said bluntly.

"What do you mean, no?" Bulma asked in confusion.

"I won't wear a _condom,_" he spat out in disgust.

"What? Why not?"

"Because I won't. It's disgraceful and I refuse to put one of those grotesque things on."

"Well, I'm not about to have another baby, Vegeta!" Bulma yelled at him.

"You already had one. What difference does another one make?" Vegeta snapped back.

"…_What?_" Bulma asked in bewilderment, the mood between them rapidly disappearing. "What do you _mean, _what difference does it make? What happened to, _I don't want any children?_"

"You blindsided me with one, that's what happened," Vegeta snarled, old bitterness coming back as he pulled his shorts up.

"I didn't blindside you with anything, you asshole," Bulma hissed at him. Luckily, there was a towel rack next to them. She snatched up a towel and wrapped it around herself.

"You didn't-" Vegeta sputtered, before his eyes darkened with rage as he exploded, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU DIDN'T BLINDSIDE ME? What do you fucking call what you did to me, you infernal woman? I came back to Earth, and you threw Trunks right into my face!"

"What did you want me to do, Vegeta?" Bulma shouted back at him. "Did you want me to keep Trunks a secret from you? I told you the truth!"

"Do you think this is what I wanted, Bulma? Do you know what I could have if it wasn't for you and Trunks? Do you have _any fucking idea_ what I could have if I went back out into space? I could own the whole goddamned universe!"

"Well, why don't you then if we're such a _hassle_!"

"Because my son needs me here!"

The two glared at each other for a long time, both of them breathing heavily. Finally, Bulma wrapped her towel tighter around herself, and spoke up again, her tone calmer now.

"Fine. Fair enough. Since you seem to grasp the responsibility involved with having a child now, don't you dare tell me that it doesn't matter if you don't wear a condom. You aren't going to be the one who has to carry a half-Saiyan baby for nine months inside of you."

Vegeta sneered at her and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Aren't you on the pill? Doesn't that lower the odds?"

"Newsflash! It wasn't enough! That's why we have a son now!"

"Hn. You didn't mind the risk before. I fail to see what the difference is now."

"You weren't here when I was pregnant with Trunks!"

"I had to train in space to save your stupid fucking planet, that's why I wasn't here!"

"Well don't talk about shit you didn't see then! You didn't see how hard the pregnancy was for me! I had to do it alone, so don't just come in and tell me that it's no big deal if it happens again!"

"Oh, fuck this," he growled, spinning away angrily as he threw his hands up. "I'm not wearing a condom, and you're not worth me changing my mind."

Before she could get another word in, he dove back into the water, and didn't come back up. Bulma reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose to keep from screaming in frustration. He was _so stubborn _and so unbelievably infuriating. She turned around and headed back towards the women's locker room to shower and go back inside, hoping a cool shower would calm her down.

Vegeta finally broke the surface of the water when he felt her leave. He grabbed her bikini top which was still floating in the water, balled it up, and threw it out of the pool, only mildly satisfied when it hit the wall. He came up on the edge of the pool and rested his arms there. Reaching up, he brushed his hair back out of his eyes, before running his hand down his face to wipe the water off.

His eye was twitching rhythmically with his anger. How the hell could she blame him for not being on Earth during her pregnancy? It's not like he fucking knew about it! He growled low under his throat, and punched the edge of the pool wall, chipping a piece of it clean off.

He fell backwards, and was floating a second later as he sighed. Was it the idea of wearing a condom, or the idea of further falling into human customs that disgusted him more? It would be fantastic to have sex with Bulma without needing to worry about having more children, but sex was not meant for such devices between a man and a woman. Not where he came from. No self-respecting Saiyan would have ever worn such a thing.

Vegeta sighed again and disappeared under the water.

He should've just stayed in the gravity room…


	8. Worth the risk

Vegeta and Bulma didn't speak to each other for almost two weeks after that. He was angry that she had gotten him worked up and then completely denied him the opportunity to have sex with her, leaving his hand as his only option for physical relief (which he was getting extremely tired of). She was angry that he was being completely inconsiderate of the struggle she had gone through to bring Trunks into the world, and that he wouldn't suck up his pride enough to just wear a condom and get it over with. They were both brilliantly pissed at each other, and both were drowning in sexual frustration.

Needless to say, neither Bulma nor Vegeta were very good company to keep during those two weeks.

Vegeta was methodically completing his push-ups in the gravity simulator one bright afternoon. It was engaged at 125G's, a decent level that had him working up a good sweat. He wasn't thinking about his strength or his power though. No, he was brooding over the beautiful heiress and wondering what he should do about her.

The prince was all for the idea of birth control; he did _not_ want any more children, no matter what he said in the heat of the moment when he was just trying to get laid. But he didn't know why _he _had to be the one to do something about it. He wasn't the one at risk for pregnancy. It didn't make sense to him why Bulma just couldn't take more pills, or design some new medication that would eliminate the risk of pregnancy completely. Honestly, the idea of putting a piece of rubber around himself disgusted him. He had no idea how humans did such a thing, but then again, humans put diapers on their infants. _That _was even more disgusting. Humans were just filthy, disgusting creatures.

Of course, he also knew that Bulma was also angry over his dismissal of her pregnancy. He knew she wanted an apology, but Vegeta was not going to apologize because there was nothing to apologize for. Pregnancy and child-bearing were things females on Earth and on planets all across the universe had done since the beginning of time. Besides, if Bulma was so against pregnancy, then she wouldn't have told him so long ago that it was fine if he didn't wear a condom. It was her own fault, and if she wanted sympathy from him over a pregnancy he hadn't wanted in the first place, then she was going to be very disappointed.

It became a matter of pride on both ends, and it was only a matter of time before one of them gave in.

Right now though, Bulma wasn't thinking of the silent battle of wills with the stubborn prince. There was an emergency in Capsule Corp headquarters downtown, and she had to go. The only problem was, her parents were out of town for the weekend, and no one else was there to watch Trunks except for Vegeta. She bit her bottom lip, debating on taking the baby with her, but she simply didn't have enough time to get his things together. Not to mention, the baby was taking his afternoon nap, and would be unbelievably cranky if Bulma woke him up from it. Trunks was already a handful as it was; but a tired, crabby Trunks made Bulma want to get her tubes tied.

Bulma sighed as she quickly gathered her things. She had no choice. She had to leave him with Vegeta. Of course, the prince trained the toddler for an hour a day except for the weekends, when he would simply lay down outside with Trunks for a short while. But Vegeta had never truly been _alone_ with Trunks, and she wasn't sure how he would handle it now.

_Well, first time for everything, _she mused to herself, finally heading out of her office to go find the prince.

It didn't take her long. Bulma cupped her hands around her eyes and peered into the gravity room, which was dim with red light. She couldn't see him for a few seconds, until she saw a flash of blinding golden light. She raised one hand to protect her eyes from the light, and then looked back in. This time she saw him as he dropped to the floor to do his usual hand-stand pushups, in all his Super Saiyan glory. She blinked a little at the sight of him. She had only seen him in the ascended state a handful of times…

Bulma shook her head, snapping out of it. Now was not the time to ogle Vegeta! She banged on the door, until she noticed him looking over. She could practically feel his snarl through the door as he got down and back up on his feet, right before he stalked straight over to her.

A second later, and they were face to face. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her, not even noticing that he had neither turned the gravity off nor extinguished his Super Saiyan transformation.

"What," he growled.

"I need you to watch Trunks for a couple hours," Bulma told him bluntly.

"I am not the boy's keeper," Vegeta sneered. "Watch him yourself."

"I can't. I have to go, right now."

"Then I suggest you take the boy with you."

"Goddamn it, Vegeta!" Bulma yelled practically in his face, two weeks worth of pent up frustration bubbling to the surface. "It's only for a couple hours, and he's taking a nap right now!"

"Not doing it," he said with indifference. He turned around and went back to resume his training.

"I _have _to go, Vegeta. Please, I need your help," she finally pleaded. Vegeta paused at her words, and looked over a little to the side. Rare were the times when anyone needed him for more than an ally in battle. Seeing his hesitation, Bulma quickly added, "I swear, I'll try to come back as soon as I can."

His eye twitched, and he looked forward again, frowning as he thought about it.

"Fine," he finally spat out.

"Oh, thank you," she told him in relief. "Just check up on him every so often. You already know the drill."

"Hn," he grunted, his hair fading back to black as he lost his golden aura. "Just be fast," he growled, walking over to the control panel.

Bulma sighed and rolled her eyes, before turning away and running off to her hover jet. His response was good enough for her, and it was probably best that she leave before he changed his mind. Vegeta felt her leaving, and muttered angrily to himself. It was almost frightening how easily he'd given in to her. He'd spent almost two weeks ignoring her and then had surrendered to her in less than a minute to her latest demand. He scowled and disengaged the gravity simulator. So much for getting some training done, he bitterly brooded as he left the gravity chamber.

Vegeta went back inside through the kitchen, and glanced up towards the ceiling. Trunks' ki was stronger than Bulma's combined with both of her parents, but it was still weak due to his age. During his sleep though, it was even lower. He picked it up after a few seconds, and once satisfied that the boy was in his crib, he went straight over to the fridge.

About a half hour later, the fridge was practically empty after the hungry Saiyan ravished it. He relished in the rare silence of the compound in this moment as he ate in peace, his thoughts revolving mostly around Bulma. Now that their tense standoff had been broken (and now that he had some food in his stomach), he started wondering if she really was going to deny him until he gave in and wore that absurd device.

It would probably come down to who could last the longest without sex. For some reason, he didn't think that person was him.

Vegeta growled as he stood up from the kitchen table. He dumped his dishes in the sink, grumbling curses in foreign languages. Finally, he marched upstairs and walked into his new bedroom. The new room was the same size as his old one, but had a balcony, which he always left open. He relished in the cool breeze for a second, before marching over to the desk in his room. He pulled out the box of condoms that Bulma had given him so long ago, sat down on the edge of his bed, and stared down at it.

About a minute later, he pulled a condom out. He frowned at it curiously, before bringing it up to sniff it. His nose twitched in disgust. It smelled strange.

_Would this blasted thing even fit me? _he angrily thought to himself. The prince tried stretching it to see how big it would go, when it snapped back right into his face.

Vegeta immediately shot up to his feet, swearing a stream of colorful curses as he wiped his face down almost frantically. He did NOT want things that went on a man's penis anywhere NEAR his face. Finally, he glared down at the box on the floor, aimed his hand down over it, and fired a ki blast that disintegrated the whole thing.

Feeling filthy now, he marched into the bathroom to take a shower, slamming the door shut behind him.

About forty minutes later, a very angry Trunks was standing up in his crib. He'd been awake for over fifteen minutes now, and his crying was being unanswered. Angry now over being ignored, Trunks stretched up on his toes and reached the top rail of his crib. He tried lifting himself up, but lacked the arm strength and fell on his diaper a few times. The toddler glared at the rail angrily as he stood up. He crouched down, and launched himself up with as much strength as he could. This time, he cleared the entire rail and flew right out of the crib.

Trunks landed on the floor and rolled a few times. He sat up, stunned as he gawked at his crib. He'd done it! He got up to his feet, glanced around, and then wandered out of his room while he sucked his thumb.

It was dark outside when a drained Bulma was encapsulating her hover jet in front of her home. There had been an injured employee in the headquarters building who needed to go to the hospital, and she had just spent the last few hours going over medical liabilities, speaking with a variety of employees to get the story of it, trying to settle everyone down, and all the works. Her father wasn't in town so that made her the acting president of the company, and she had just gotten her first taste of being completely in charge. Now all she wanted was a drink, and maybe a hot bath.

Bulma walked in and looked up, wondering why it was so quiet. Maybe Vegeta and Trunks were outside in the gravity room? She put her things away and got comfortable, before going outside. But no one was out there. Frowning, she walked back inside and started prowling the usual spots, until she came up to Vegeta's room. The door was open, and he was lying facedown in bed, sound asleep.

Bulma knocked on the door, and he mumbled something incoherent into his pillow.

"Vegeta," she called out to him.

The prince stirred, before rolling onto his side as he squinted over at her through hazy eyes. "What?" he demanded irritably, his voice rough from sleep.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to get back. How'd it go with Trunks?"

"Fine," he mumbled, rolling onto his back and covering his eyes with his arm. Almost instantly, he started drifting off again.

"Is he sleeping?"

Vegeta sighed in exasperation, before mentally reaching out to his son once again. He frowned when he couldn't sense anything, and then moved his arm off his face. He ran a hand over his face a few times to fully wake up. He forced himself to focus, and concentrated on picking up where his son was.

A second later, he sat straight up in bed, now wide awake.

"Vegeta?" Bulma asked, her brows furrowing over the way he was staring blankly straight ahead of him. For some reason she couldn't quite name, her stomach started turning up in knots. "What's-"

Vegeta raised a hand to her to silence her, and catching the hint, Bulma stopped. He cocked his head to one side as he strained to pick up his son's ki signature.

He couldn't find it.

"Fuck," Vegeta hissed under his breath, quickly getting up to his feet.

"What is it?" Bulma asked nervously, moving out of the way when he stalked over to the door. Vegeta ignored her and walked out, heading straight over to Trunks' room. Even though he was walking, his strides were fast, and Bulma nearly had to run to keep up with him.

"Will you just tell me what's wrong?" she demanded when he finally entered their son's room. They both paused and stared at the empty crib. Bulma struggled to keep from railing into Vegeta right then, forcing herself to keep her voice calm as she asked, "Vegeta, where is Trunks?"

It took Vegeta a moment, before he finally confessed in a quiet voice, "I don't know."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU DON'T KNOW?" Bulma finally exploded at him.

"IT MEANS I DON'T KNOW!" Vegeta exploded right back at her. "Now shut the hell up and let me think!"

"Let you _think_? Can't you-" Bulma's heart suddenly dropped to her stomach. "You can't sense him?"

Vegeta ran a hand up through his hair, shaking his head in frustration. "He's not here."

"Maybe he's hiding his ki?"

The prince shook his head again, walking up to the crib. "He is too young to know how to hide his ki," he said, his voice oddly calm and detached, even though his muscles were unbelievably tense. There were only two explanations why he wasn't sensing Trunks, and he was not about to entertain one of them. The only logical explanation was that the boy was off the premises.

Vegeta put both hands on the rail of the crib, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply. He was trying to pick up the scent of anyone else in the room, but he suspected that no one had come in and taken Trunks. The boy's ki would have spiked in fear and that would have woken him up.

_Maybe, _he amended bitterly, suddenly despising himself. He had clearly overestimated how in tune he was with Trunks' ki, a rare mistake that he only hoped wouldn't cost him.

Behind him, Bulma was a frenzy of razzled nerves as she rambled about what they were going to do and who they had to call. Like Vegeta, the thought crossed her mind that someone had kidnapped their son. Unlike Vegeta, she was not blessed with a heightened sense of smell to confirm or disprove her suspicions.

Vegeta was almost in a daze as he stood there, even while Bulma was in near hysterics behind him as she left the room and came back in a few times, trying to talk to him about what they were going to do. The whole time, he couldn't stop wondering how he didn't wake up when the boy did. He had never in his life felt what he was feeling right now, and out of pure instincts, he was shutting down emotionally to try to think. But his ability to think was momentarily shot, leaving him frozen on what to do.

When he finally smelled tears in the air, Vegeta blinked a few times and shook his head. He had to snap out of it. Turning to her, he saw that she was on the phone, her back to him, one hand up covering her eyes.

Bulma was waiting for someone to pick up at the police station when Vegeta snatched her phone from her and shut it closed. He tossed it aside as she turned to face him, clearly surprised.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, her blue eyes shining with tears. Vegeta frowned, and resisted the urge to look away. Something in his chest hurt as he was reminded of Trunks. "I have to get us help-"

"We don't need any help," he interrupted. His voice was detached and methodical as he ran down the facts: "The boy was not taken. There is no scent of anyone here. Since he doesn't know how to fly, he could only move by foot. He therefore couldn't have gotten far. I will find him."

"What?" she asked in blank disbelief. He had no time to respond before Bulma was suddenly screaming at him, "Yes, we do need help, Vegeta! Now isn't the time for your fucking pride or goddamned stubbornness! Trunks might not know how to fly but he could still be ANYWHERE, and it's dark outside, and he's not here, and he's just a baby, and someone might have still snatched him up, and he's-"

Vegeta put his hands on the sides of her face as he stepped up close to her. Bulma's words caught in her throat as he rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes.

"I will find Trunks, Bulma," he repeated. His voice was quiet and calm, but it was filled with a steely resolve that was undeniable. A muscle near his jaw flexed as he added, "I promise."

"…Okay," Bulma finally said in a shaky voice, unconsciously leaning into him. Long forgotten was their earlier anger with each other as she put her hands on his chest. She sniffed, and forced herself to regain her bearings. "Okay," she said again, her voice stronger this time.

Vegeta let her go and turned away, heading straight to the window. Bulma watched as he opened it, before there was a flash of golden light, and then he was gone.

* * *

"Girl, you are looking _good!_"

"Why, thank you. You're not so bad yourself, handsome."

Yamcha smirked and gave a casual shrug, nonchalantly adjusting his tie. "Yeah… what can I say. My mom did an awesome job," he teased, opening the door for his date to step inside the restaurant he was taking her to. He was briefly mesmerized as he watched her from behind. The girl had an amazing figure, and his eyes were lascivious as he took in her wonderful red dress.

The blonde girl stopped and looked over her shoulder coyly at him. "Well? Aren't you coming?"

Yamcha grinned and followed after her, eagerly wrapping his arm around her waist as he came next to her. They were greeted by a waiter shortly afterwards, who politely bowed to them.

"Table for two?"

Yamcha opened his mouth to answer, when he suddenly cocked his head to one side in curiosity. He frowned, and there was an awkward silence before his date finally spoke up.

"Yes, a table for two, please," she politely said.

"Right this way."

The waiter turned and walked away, but Yamcha wasn't paying attention anymore. His date nudged him gently in the ribs, and he blinked, shaking his head.

"You okay?" she asked him quietly.

"Yeah," he said, nodding. He looked at her and smiled. "I'm with you. Of course I'm okay," he added, his smile spreading.

"Good. You know I don't like when the attention isn't solely on me," she told him flirtatiously, walking off with a flick of her hair.

This time though, Yamcha wasn't fawning over her body. He was looking off to the side again. He could have _sworn _that he heard Trunks crying, but that wasn't right. He'd tried a million times to get Bulma to come to this restaurant, and she had denied him a million times. Besides, there were other kids there. It was a bit upscale, but that just meant there were upscale kids.

Finally, he shrugged and walked after his date.

They were sitting down when he suddenly felt Vegeta's distinct ki signature nearby. He blinked in surprise; the prince was fully powered up in his Super Saiyan form. Yamcha sat down heavily in his seat, wondering what was going on.

"Helloooo, Earth to Yamcha," his date said, waving a hand in front of his face.

"Oh. Right," Yamcha said, forcing a chuckle. "Um, why don't you order some appetizers?" he suggested, suddenly standing up.

"Where are you going?" his date demanded. "We just sat-"

"I'll be right back," Yamcha said, already walking away before he was even done with his sentence.

A few seconds later, Vegeta was stalking inside the restaurant. He didn't have his powerful golden aura around him, but his hair was still tinted gold. His teal eyes scanned the restaurant and finally settled on Yamcha, who was walking over to him. Yamcha couldn't help but pause when he made eye contact with the prince. Even though he was in his Super Saiyan form, he looked haggard and worn down. Not to mention, he was barefoot and wearing a white tank top with black shorts. It looked like Vegeta had just rolled out of bed, and that didn't sit well at all with him.

Vegeta's lip twitched, before he snarled at Yamcha. The prince spun on his heel in frustration, walking right back out of the restaurant. It was just the damn human he was sensing. His nerves were shot by this point. He'd been searching for his son for almost an hour now to no avail, and it was the longest hour of his life. He was trying to remain emotionally detached from the situation, and was failing miserably. He was not equipped to handle the emotions raging through him, and was struggling to keep them in check. Later, he could dwell and brood. Right now, all that mattered was finding Trunks.

"Hey, Vegeta, wait up!" Yamcha shouted as he followed the prince.

"Get lost, imbecile," Vegeta snapped at him. "I don't have time to deal with you right now."

"What's going on?" Yamcha persisted. It only took him a second to stop and watch as Vegeta walked down the street, looking like he was searching for someone, that he put two and two together. "Are you looking for Trunks?"

That got Vegeta's attention. The prince stopped and immediately spun around, narrowing his eyes as he glared at Yamcha. Yamcha took a nervous step back when he saw the barely contained rage brewing in Vegeta's dark eyes.

"Human, if you had _anything_ to do with this…" Vegeta seethed through his teeth, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. Yamcha gulped and took another step back as the prince's ki started surging to phenomenal levels, raising his hands in a peace gesture.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, man," Yamcha nervously said. "I just thought that I heard him earlier-"

"Where?" Vegeta demanded.

"Back at the restaurant. This way," Yamcha said, turning and jogging back. Vegeta hesitated only for a second, before following him. Maybe he really had sensed Trunks after all.

Yamcha walked back inside, a step in front of Vegeta when he stopped. He pointed over to the right.

"I thought I heard him over there," Yamcha said, but Vegeta was already stalking over in that direction. A waiter suddenly got in the prince's way, and Vegeta briefly stopped.

"Sir, you can't go in without _shoes, _at least-"

Yamcha moved in almost at the speed of light when Vegeta snarled and grabbed the waiter tightly by the throat. He put a hand on Vegeta's wrist, earning a murderous glare from the Saiyan that clearly said he was gambling with his life by touching him. Yamcha forced a chuckle, and let go of Vegeta's wrist.

"Look, man," Yamcha said good-naturedly to the waiter who Vegeta was still gripping by the throat. "My uh, buddy here, just needs to do a quick search-"

Vegeta suddenly shoved the waiter aside, sending the man harmlessly to the floor. Yamcha breathed out in relief that Vegeta hadn't outright killed him, bending down to help the man up as the Saiyan stalked through the restaurant.

Vegeta finally reached a specific table where there was a couple sitting against the far wall. Without a word, he reached down, grabbed the table, and threw it aside so that it crashed against the wall. The couple remained in their seats with their forks and knives still in their hands, in complete shock as all kinds of commotion started up. But Vegeta could only see the little boy who had been hiding beyond their legs, up against the wall.

The prince lowered his head and closed his eyes, letting out a quiet and relieved breath. He looked back at the little boy who had his face covered with his hands and was shaking. Vegeta crouched down as Yamcha came up next to him, trying to diffuse the situation with the furious customers and waiters who were threatening to call the police.

"Trunks?" Vegeta asked warily.

Trunks peeked out through his fingers, and when he saw who was in front of him, he burst into tears and ran right into Vegeta's chest. The prince flinched in surprise, before awkwardly rubbing his son's back. Finally, he grabbed Trunks by the arms and pulled him back, examining him carefully. He cupped his chin and turned his head different ways, ignoring the boy's wailing as he made sure he was physically fine.

"Vegeta, we gotta go," Yamcha told him.

Vegeta stood up, and Trunks fell sitting down, covering his eyes as he continued crying. The prince frowned and took a step back. He reached up and rubbed his eyes, turning to Yamcha and muttering, "Call Bulma and tell her that we found him. Then take him back home."

"Oh," Yamcha said, blinking a bit. To say he was shocked at the show of trust would be an understatement. "Alright. Come here, little man," he said soothingly, bending down and scooping Trunks up into his arms. The little boy was still bawling and he buried his face against Yamcha's neck.

Vegeta looked at them both distantly, and Yamcha couldn't help but ask him, "You alright?"

The prince blinked at the question, and then glared evenly at Yamcha. He then turned around and walked out of the restaurant without a word. Yamcha rubbed Trunks' back, pulling out his cell phone to call Bulma. He had about five people yelling angrily at him, as if HE had thrown tables and assaulted waiters, and he had a screaming baby he was trying to calm down.

"It's okay, kiddo, you're good," Yamcha told Trunks while he waited for Bulma to pick up. He glanced back to where Vegeta had walked out, and marveled under his breath.

"Well I'll be damned. He does care after all…"

* * *

Bulma felt like she had aged thirty years as she looked down at her son. Trunks was wrapped up nice and warm, and was sound asleep in his crib. With Yamcha's help, they had lowered the mattress and raised the rail. That was only after Bulma hugged Trunks for about five minutes, before stripping him and checking every last inch of him. Scared of what he might have gotten into, she took the baby to get checked out. It was only when they told her that he was fine, that she finally started to relax.

Yamcha sat down in the recliner in Trunks' room. He loosened his tie, and sighed as he looked at his ex-girlfriend. For her and for her son, he would drop the world. He was trying to move on, but it was amazing the hold Bulma still had on him.

He looked down at the floor and frowned. He could easily give something here to help sever the ties Bulma had with Vegeta. And maybe he would have, if he hadn't seen Vegeta up close earlier that night. He knew that Bulma cared about the Saiyan, and maybe even loved him, but he had been so sure it was all one-sided. Sure, he'd seen Vegeta's reaction when Mirai Trunks had died, but that was a split second reaction. He had still harbored his doubts that the prince had it inside of him to truly care about Bulma and baby Trunks.

All those doubts were now gone. Vegeta was different now, and he had a strong feeling that the woman he was staring at was the reason why. It was an odd sensation of finality and acceptance that came over him, there in the quiet of Trunks' room. It could have been him, but it wasn't going to be.

It was time to be the bigger man and step back.

"How's Vegeta doing?"

Bulma cursed under her breath. In all the commotion, she hadn't even bothered checking to see that Vegeta was okay.

"I don't know," she finally said, drawing away from the crib. "I should probably go see."

"Yeah," Yamcha agreed, before yawning. "Been a busy night."

"Thank you for tonight, Yamcha."

"Don't mention it. Though I completely forgot that I was on a date until I got here with Trunks. Guess she won't be calling me back," Yamcha joked lightly, trying to lighten the mood.

Bulma couldn't help her light laughter. Yamcha got up, walked up to her and pulled her into a hug, a hug she readily returned.

"I won't ever like the guy, Bulma," Yamcha told her quietly, tightening his grip a little. "But, if he's what you want, then I can deal with that. He's…not who I thought he was."

"I know what you mean," Bulma said, finally pulling away from him. She flashed him a friendly smile, before shaking her head and snickering, "I can't _believe_ you took your date to that shitty, stuck up restaurant."

Yamcha couldn't help but laugh.

* * *

About an hour later after Yamcha left, after she had taken a shower and thoroughly calmed down, Bulma went looking for Vegeta. She poked her head into his room, and let herself in when she didn't see him in bed. Going over to the bathroom, she knocked on the door, and didn't get an answer. She opened the door, but he wasn't there either. She frowned and was about to go check the gravity room when she finally caught sight of him. He was sitting out on the balcony rail.

Bulma stepped out onto the balcony a moment later, and slid the door closed behind her. She finally tilted her head a little as she looked at him from behind.

"You okay?"

Vegeta said nothing and made no movement to even acknowledge that he heard her. Since he hadn't exactly told her to get lost, Bulma approached him. She wrapped her robe around herself when a cold chill swept past. Looking him over, she couldn't believe he wasn't freezing in his tank top and shorts. She stood next to him and looked his profile over. His eyes were distant as he stared off at nothing.

"Come inside, Vegeta," she told him quietly, reaching to him and rubbing his back. Vegeta didn't react to the contact. "It's cold out here."

"I'm fine," he said, sounding like he was in a daze. His voice was quiet and exhausted as he added, "Just leave me alone."

"You're not fine," Bulma sighed. "It's been a draining day for everyone. Come on, come in and get some sleep. Tomorrow is a new day."

He hesitated for a moment, before asking, "How is the boy?"

"Trunks is fine. Everything is fine."

When she got no reaction, Bulma came closer to him, and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"It wasn't your fault."

He shook his head, silently disagreeing.

"It wasn't," Bulma persisted. "Trunks is a handful, and I gave you no heads up. I'm sorry, Vegeta."

Vegeta frowned and said nothing. Bulma slowly moved over so she was standing behind him, and when he didn't object over her proximity, she hugged him from behind. He was stiff and rigid with tension, but as soon as she hugged him, she could feel the tension leaving him. Vegeta sighed in quiet surrender, looking up to the sky as she leaned up against him. They stayed that way for a while, their earlier frustration with each other almost a forgotten memory.

He finally broke the silence almost fifteen minutes later.

"My father once told me that it was the duty of every Saiyan male to protect his woman and his offspring. The only real lesson he ever gave me on being a man, and I remember it for all the wrong reasons."

Bulma rested her chin on his shoulder, and nuzzled against her nose behind his ear while he continued as if in a daze, "I always said I didn't want children, and I had many reasons. But perhaps the biggest one was, I didn't want to become my father. But you and Trunks almost died, and Mirai Trunks _did _die, and today…fuck," he sighed, shaking his head. "I'm just like him."

"No, you're not," Bulma whispered right in his ear. "You're trying, Vegeta."

"I'm not cut out for this."

"Cut out for what?" she quietly asked him.

"Being a father."

"I think you're a wonderful father. I wouldn't trade you for anyone."

Vegeta blinked a few times, before leaning his head away from her so he could look at her. He shook his head at her almost in a mixture of disbelief and bewilderment.

"What in the world do you _see_ in me, woman?"

"I don't know," Bulma said, tilting her head as she regarded him. "I guess I just see what you can't see for yourself."

Vegeta stared into her mesmerizing blue eyes. There was a surging feeling in his chest that was foreign to him, and he had no name for it. All he knew was that he was surprisingly grateful that she was there. Not just there in the moment with him, but on a deeper level. He was actually grateful she was in his life, and he had never felt like that towards anyone before. Rendered speechless by her acceptance of him even with his numerous faults and his dark past, he just nodded. With some unknown strength, he tore his eyes away and looked ahead again.

Bulma saw the brief flicker of emotion in his eyes before he looked away, and she smiled a little. Yes, he wasn't perfect, but he was trying. And that meant the world.

She kissed him on his cheek, before telling him, "Don't stay out here too long, alright? It's freezing. Let me know if you need anything."

Vegeta scowled, but he stayed silent. Bulma pulled away from him and all of a sudden, a wave of cold washed over him. He winced a little at the abrupt change, and rubbed his right arm with his left hand. He glanced over to the side when he heard her walk back into his room.

Bulma was almost walking out of his room when the door suddenly closed. She blinked in surprise at the hand which was holding the door firmly closed, before looking over at him. She looked back only to see that the balcony screen door was now closed as well.

Vegeta backed her up against the door, and Bulma felt the temperature in the room rise dramatically. That brief flicker of emotion in his eyes was now an intense firestorm that was sweeping her right into the flames, until she felt like she was burning alive.

He leaned in and grazed her lips with his, before whispering-

"I need _you_, Bulma."

Bulma momentarily forgot how to breathe. She was certain that if she didn't already love this man, that she would have fallen for him fast and hard just by hearing those four words coming out of his mouth.

"Vegeta… I-"

"I'll wear one," he grumbled in defeat, shaking his head. "I just…"

He struggled for words, but he knew none to express how he felt. He closed his eyes so he wouldn't see her reaction. His emotions were raw, and he had never felt so utterly vulnerable in his life. If this woman denied him in this moment, he didn't think he would ever recover.

Bulma kissed him gently, let out a shaky breath, and finally confessed, "I love you."

That foreign feeling surged in his chest again at her words. At a complete loss on what to say and overwhelmed by the emotional day, Vegeta kissed her and let his actions speak for themselves. Bulma almost lost the strength in her knees with his heated and dominant kiss as he pushed her back against the door. His hands brushed open her robe, and to his delight, she was only in her bra and shorts to sleep in. He almost impatiently tugged at the robe. Bulma took the hint and he briefly pulled away, watching as she removed it - but not before removing a small square from her pocket that was familiar to him.

Vegeta raised an eyebrow, looking from the condom up to her blushing features.

"What?" she huffed defensively. "You can never be unprepared."

"Hn. Such a vulgar woman," he mumbled, his lips threatening a smirk. Before she could defend herself (both verbally and physically), Vegeta grabbed her and lifted her up against him, and dropped her on his bed a heartbeat later. With no hesitation, he quickly shed his clothes, and joined her before she had even untied her hair.

Vegeta grabbed her and pulled her on top of him, pulling her down into another devouring kiss. Her taste was as intoxicating now as it was the very first time he'd kissed her. Bulma eagerly settled against him, straddling him as her hands ran up the burning skin of his chest and his shoulders. Vegeta sighed into their kiss, letting her touch him wherever she wanted and giving her a degree of control that he had never given anyone else in his life.

Bulma kissed him along his jaw while she rubbed against his hardness, and he could smell her arousal, which was making him mad with desire. Bulma smiled in satisfaction when she felt him eagerly thrusting up against her as his strong hands roamed over her back. Finally, he snapped off her bra, and it was quickly lost to the darkness of the room. Vegeta pulled her down to him so that he could feel her soft curves against him, and was about to roll them over so he could be on top and devour her luscious body when she stopped him.

Vegeta swallowed heavily as Bulma leaned up, putting her hands on his shoulders to keep him down. He had always found her verbal audacity with him to be arousing but it paled in comparison to her attempts to overpower or dominate him physically. He finally rested his head back, and gave her what she wanted.

He stared at the ceiling while Bulma slowly worked her way down his body. He was slightly out of breath when he finally felt her tongue flicking teasingly against him. His eyes drifted closed, and he moaned as her hot mouth surrounded him. He tightly gripped the sheets underneath him to resist from thrusting up against her while she continued enjoying him at her leisure. When Bulma added her hand to the mix, she had the mighty Saiyan prince practically purring in content underneath her. It was well-deserving of a mental pat on the back.

He was covered in sweat when she finally stopped. He looked up and saw the condom she was pulling out. Bulma looked over at him, and they made eye contact. Vegeta frowned, looked away, and finally nodded. His muscles were twitching involuntarily as she started putting it on him.

"Is that thing even going to fit?" Vegeta growled, resting his head back again.

Bulma laughed, "Wow. Aren't we arrogant?"

"Hn," Vegeta grunted, her response putting him a little more at ease, but not by much.

"It'll fit. They come in Vegeta-size," Bulma teased.

Vegeta was glaring at the ceiling, still trying to decide how he felt about the odd device on him, when Bulma finally straddled him again. All at once, he forgot about the condom when he looked up at her. She was naked now, and she was beautiful to him. He reached up and let his hand roam up her stomach to her breasts, and she covered his hand with hers. Deep down, Vegeta marveled at his luck. How the hell he had gotten this woman to want him physically _and _emotionally was completely beyond him. He had done nothing to deserve anyone's love, much less hers, but he had it.

Bulma yelped a little as he quickly spun them around so he was on top. She looked up at him as he settled himself between her legs. Vegeta leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Tell me you love me, woman."

His tone gave her chills. She swallowed a bit, before saying what he wanted to hear.

"I love you-"

Her words broke in a moan as he buried himself to the hilt with one motion, meeting no resistance. He felt raw again as she wrapped her arms around him, her delicious moans music to his ears while he drove into her with a methodical pace. Her hands were roaming over his skin, and the more she touched him, the more eager he was to please her as his thrusts started picking up speed and energy. They maintained eye contact the entire time as they panted together, his intense and dark eyes meeting her bright and mesmerizing blue ones in a union that was as electric as their lovemaking.

Vegeta suddenly reached down and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her up close against him when he felt her writhing underneath him. Bulma latched onto him desperately before crying out in ecstasy as waves of pleasure racked her body. Feeling and hearing her pushed him over the edge right afterwards, and he groaned against her skin in relief.

They stayed together while they both tried catching their breaths. Bulma ran her fingers down his spine, making him close his eyes and sigh in content. She relished their physical closeness, and though he would die before he ever admitted it, he relished it as much as she did.

Finally, after some time, Vegeta withdrew from her. He grimaced in disgust as he sat up next to her and looked down at himself, before finally getting up out of the bed.

"You humans are fucking disgusting," he growled, disappearing into the bathroom. Bulma laughed, still out of breath as she waited for her heartbeat to return to normal levels.

Vegeta returned a minute later, settling down next to her in bed. He gave her a wary look, as if unsure how she would react to them sharing a bed for the night. Finally, he shrugged. It was _his _bed. This was where he slept, and tonight would be no different.

Bulma smiled a little when he spread some sheets over both of them, even though he avoided eye contact with her when he did. Vegeta turned on his side and gave her his back, and then tensed when she wrapped her arms around him from behind a moment later. She kissed him by his ear, and he frowned.

"Goodnight, Vegeta."

"…goodnight," he grumbled uncomfortably.

It didn't take long for Bulma to fall asleep, but Vegeta was awake for a while. Now that the intensity of the day was behind them, he wasn't quite sure he liked how open he had been with her. The emotional connection before and during their lovemaking was well into frightening levels for him, and he wasn't sure he was at all comfortable with the results of his weakness. What if she threw it back in his face someday, or even worse: told others about the things he'd said?

It took him a long time to relax in her embrace, but right before he finally succumbed to his exhaustion, he decided that maybe she was worth the risk.


	9. Through the cracks

Vegeta was gone before Bulma woke up the next morning. To say that she was a little disappointed when he didn't come back by the end of the day would be an understatement. But when the days continued to pass without a sign from him, she started second guessing her decision to confess her feelings for him. Had she only succeeded in driving him away when the heat of the moment passed and he realized what she said?

If only the Saiyan came with a book on how to get close to him. He had finally let her in, taken down the walls and given her a glimpse into himself – only to take off the next day.

It was frustrating. She wanted to start having a normal relationship with Vegeta. She wanted to start engaging in normal couple things with him beyond just having sex with him. She wanted more. After all, she loved him, and though he hadn't exactly echoed her words, he had admitted that he needed her. That definitely counted for a lot coming from Vegeta.

Once again, it seemed patience was the key. Heaven knew she was gaining quite a bit of it between raising Trunks and being involved with Vegeta.

Bulma sighed as she examined the broken crib in front of her a week later. Since they had raised the rail, Trunks had compensated by kicking at the bars. A few good kicks, and he broke them clean off. She shook her head, picking up a shattered piece of wood from the bars and examining it. She needed to reinforce the crib, but she didn't want to make it so that Trunks would hurt himself in there either. But absolutely no one was ready for the little boy to have free reign by setting up his toddler bed, so she was stuck.

Behind her, Trunks giggled in his playpen. Bulma looked over at him, to find him sitting and watching her in amusement as she examined his damage. She recognized that playful, devilish look right away and groaned.

"Oh, Trunks," the heiress sighed, looking back at the crib. "What am I going to do with you?"

_Or your father, for that matter? _

"Out!" Trunks yelled, standing up. He started jumping up and down over and over as he yelled again, "Out, out, out, OUT, Mama!"

"I don't think so, mister. Look at what you did to your wonderful crib! Cribs are for you to sleep in, not for you to destroy."

Trunks scowled. He plopped down on his diaper and crossed his arms, glaring angrily at his mother. Bulma couldn't help her laughter when she saw him. He was trying so hard to look mean, but he just looked so adorable when trying to look like Vegeta.

"Sorry, sweetie, but you need a little more practice to get your father's intimidation down," she teased him. Trunks' glare melted into a pout.

"Da?"

"Daddy will be back soon, don't worry," Bulma reassured him, before looking back at the broken crib.

Well, she hoped so anyways.

Bulma tried her best not to let her thoughts linger too much on Vegeta for the rest of the day. She took Trunks for a swim in their pool, letting him splash around to his heart's content. She was still a little paranoid with him, and had rarely let the little boy out of her sight ever since he'd run away. She then distracted herself by taking Trunks for a drive over to see Chi-Chi, who was now seven months pregnant and expecting another boy. The two women had chatted for a long time about how their little boys would become best friends while Gohan played with Trunks.

When the topic of Goku inevitably came up though, Bulma discovered new patience for her budding relationship with Vegeta. At least he was there for their son, unlike her friend who hadn't come back for Gohan and the new baby. She missed Goku and would always love him as a friend, but seeing Gohan abruptly turn and walk out of the room when the conversation turned to his father made her feel disappointed in her old friend. And it also made her appreciate Vegeta more.

So when Bulma came back home only to find that the prince still hadn't returned, she was okay with that. She knew he would be back.

She was right.

Trunks was sitting up in his new and improved crib later that night, wearing new Spiderman pajamas. He was drinking a bottle of warm milk and kicking at his blankets, stubbornly refusing to lie down to fall asleep even though he was tired. He kicked a little at the bars of the new crib. They had some give, but no matter how hard he kicked, he couldn't break these bars. Trunks was frustrated, and stubbornly kicked the bars even after his foot started to hurt.

The little boy finally stopped and looked up when he felt a draft of cold air. He stood up, holding his bottle with one hand, and then beamed happily when he saw the man climbing in through the window.

Trunks pulled his bottle out of his mouth, and yelled out, "Da!"

Vegeta closed the window, locked it, and made sure it was secure. He then turned and walked over to his son's crib. He frowned down at the little boy, crossing his arms over his armor.

"Aren't you supposed to be asleep, demon seed?" Vegeta sneered.

"No. No sleep," Trunks whined.

Vegeta looked at his son for a moment, the hard edge in his eyes slowly disappearing. Finally, he shook his head and reached down, putting a gloved hand on top of Trunks' head.

"Stubborn, just like your mother," he quietly said.

"Mama?"

The prince withdrew his hand, and squatted down in front of the crib. Trunks sat down and looked at his father curiously, before bringing the bottle up to his mouth and chugging his milk again.

"What am I supposed to do with that woman, Trunks?" Vegeta grumbled. Trunks kicked at the bars of his crib again, and the prince couldn't help but smirk. "Well, I certainly would like to kick her, but the frail woman would likely die in the process."

Trunks looked pensive for a moment, before removing his bottle from his mouth. He crawled closer and offered Vegeta his bottle through the bars.

"You keep that. I don't know where the hell that's been," Vegeta sneered in disgust, eyeing the bottle suspiciously like it was poisoned.

"Share!"

Vegeta sighed, reaching up with one hand to massage his temple a bit. He lowered his hand and looked at his son through the bars of his crib. The open acceptance in the boy's eyes as he looked back at him never failed to move him beyond words. That he could have done so many bad things in his life and still have helped create something pure and innocent was hard to wrap his mind around. Hell, that he could have rejected Trunks less than a year ago was almost impossible to imagine now.

He gently pushed back the bottle and shook his head, "You drink it, kid. It's yours."

Trunks pouted, before reaching up with one hand and rubbing one eye. Vegeta stood up, frowning as he did.

"You're tired. Lay down and go to sleep," he ordered.

Trunks whimpered in protest, but when he lowered his hand and looked up to see the angry glare he was receiving, he quickly laid down. He shoved his bottle away, and turned on his side, yawning as he closed his eyes. Vegeta leaned over and pulled the blanket over him, and then checked the crib to make sure it was secure. He then put his hands on the rail of the crib and watched Trunks fall asleep.

The prince glanced over to the side when he finally picked up on Bulma walking into her room. He silently drummed his fingers along the rail of Trunks' crib as he contemplated what he should do.

Bulma wrapped her robe around herself as she leaned against the balcony rail outside of her bedroom. She looked up at the stars, sighed, and then remarked out loud, "I wish you would stop running away, Vegeta."

"I don't run away from anything or anyone, much less you," his gruff voice sneered from behind her.

Bulma smiled knowingly, turning her head a little to the side. "I knew that would lure you out of the shadows."

"You knew I was here?"

She shrugged and looked forward again. "The receiver for the sound monitor in Trunks' room was flaring up. I turned it up to hear what was going on, and I heard you telling him to lie down."

Vegeta stiffened a little, his eyes narrowing. "I'll have you know that human women are not welcomed eavesdroppers when Saiyan men are conversing."

Bulma laughed a little. "That's all I heard, so no worries."

"Hn."

"I've been keeping up with him more than usual after what happened."

"I saw that you improved his cage."

"It's not a _cage_, Vegeta," Bulma chuckled, shaking her head in amusement. "It's a crib."

"Whatever."

"And yeah, I did. He gave me no choice. He broke his crib this morning."

"Of course he did. We don't like being caged."

Bulma sucked at her top teeth a little bit, before venturing, "Is that what you think this would be between us? Me caging you?"

"Don't put words in my mouth, woman," he growled.

"Well, I can only guess when it comes to you. I haven't seen you in a week, not since… well, you know."

Vegeta frowned, crossing his arms over his armor. He was leaning on the wall right by the balcony door. He glanced at her from behind, but she was leaning against the rail and looking ahead. He then looked off to the side, biting back his instinct that said he owed her no explanation.

After about a minute, he finally offered, "I left to think."

"You could think here, you know. You don't always have to up and leave. I hate it when you do that," Bulma sighed.

"I come back," he grumbled defensively.

"Yeah, but I never know when."

"What difference does it make?"

Bulma rolled her eyes. "The difference is that I worry about you, Vegeta."

Vegeta snorted in disgust. "You truly are a foolish woman. As if anything on this pathetic planet is a threat to me."

"I also miss you when you're gone, you egotistical jerk," she said, snickering a little.

He tightened his arms over his chest, a muscle flexing rhythmically by his jaw. Finally, almost five minutes later, he spat out, "Why?"

"You already know why."

A second later, and Vegeta's gloved hands were on the balcony rail on either side of her. Bulma closed her eyes a little when he leaned up against her, his breath by her ear. There was just something about making contact with him while he was wearing his armor that melted her every time.

"Did you mean it?" he whispered. Bulma's eyes opened, and she blinked a few times in surprise at the question. Finally, she turned around so she was facing him.

"What?"

Vegeta frowned. He looked uncomfortably to the side, shrugging as he did. "No one's ever given a shit whether I lived or died," he said with indifference. "That's how it's always been. I've never had a problem with it." He cleared his throat, before he warily added, "And I still don't, if that's how things still are."

It was then that it dawned on Bulma that he had likely never had anyone in his life tell him that they loved him. It was striking how different they were. Between her parents, her friends, and her past relationship with Yamcha, there was never a moment when she wasn't assured of someone's love. Vegeta, though, was coming from the complete opposite end of the spectrum. It both saddened and encouraged her. She wanted to be the one to show him everything he'd been missing.

"Well, it's not like that anymore," Bulma finally told him, putting her hands on his chest. Vegeta rolled his eyes and snorted a little, clearly unconvinced. She sighed, before reaching up and taking his face in her hands, forcing him to look back at her. "Hey, I meant what I said. I love you, Vegeta. If I have to tell you that every day until it gets through that thick skull of yours and you finally start to believe me, then I'll do it."

Vegeta studied her carefully, his eyes well-guarded. The concept of love to him was limited to three activities: he loved to fight, he loved to win, and he loved to eat. That was as far as he would ever use the word. But to love another? He didn't understand it. And he sure as hell didn't understand it when it involved him.

He shook his head and sighed. "I will never tell you the same."

"You don't have to. I already know you care."

Vegeta's face burned red, and he angrily looked away. "I've never said such a foolish thing," he defensively spat out.

"You've said enough. The rest I've picked up by learning how to translate Vegeta talk," Bulma teased.

He hesitated, before looking back at her, his expression uncertain. "I don't know what you want from me, Bulma," he quietly confessed.

"I only want what you're willing to give," she told him, putting her arms around his neck and gently pulling him closer.

Vegeta frowned and resisted for a second, before finally leaning into her again. He moved his hands down to the back of her thighs and easily lifted her up so she was sitting on the balcony rail. He spread her legs and settled himself against her, and couldn't help his smirk when he felt Bulma clutch onto him a little tighter when he did.

"You're not going to kill me, are you?" Bulma asked nervously, looking over her shoulder down to the ground below.

Vegeta chuckled, his smirk spreading as he settled his hands on her waist. "Woman, a fall from this height wouldn't kill you. Perhaps just break a few bones. Maybe give you a concussion as well since you're so weak," he teased as he shifted one hand over to her lower back to support her.

"Oh, well don't I feel loads better now?" Bulma sarcastically remarked, moving her hands so they were on his shoulders.

"Well, I certainly feel better," Vegeta mumbled to himself, now eye-level with her chest. He could just barely see a hint of cleavage, and so he brought up one hand to open her robe for a better look.

Bulma grabbed him by the chin before he did though, and forced his head back so they were making eye contact. Vegeta's eyes widened in shock as her hand lingered right by his throat. He couldn't believe this weak little woman had the audacity to touch him in such a manner…it immediately made him hard.

"There is one thing that I'll ask from you. Don't go around checking out or hooking up with some skank whore on the side," Bulma told him with a frown.

The prince smirked. "Now who's jealous?"

"Do you want me to go hook up with the next hot guy I see?" Bulma asked him knowingly, raising an eyebrow as she moved her hand back to his shoulder. His smirk immediately disappeared.

"You will do no such thing," Vegeta snarled in warning, his dark eyes flashing with jealousy at the thought of another man touching her. Heaven help any man who did because he would fucking skin them alive, and he would enjoy it too. "From now on, you belong to me and me alone, woman, until I say otherwise."

The heiress frowned at his possessive tone and drew away a little bit, lowering her hands to his chest plate. "Now wait just a second…"

She briefly lost her train of thought when Vegeta snaked his gloved hands inside her robe, and then underneath her tank top. Bulma swallowed, and continued, "…This isn't a possessive thing, Vegeta. Relationships aren't about owning people. It's like a balance, you know? A partnership thing-"

Her heartbeat picked up when he buried his face against her breasts, nibbling at her through her tank top.

"Vegeta! I'm trying to talk to you!" she almost whined.

"Uh huh. I'm listening," he mumbled, nuzzling his nose against her while he breathed in her scent.

"Well," Bulma continued breathlessly, bringing one hand around to massage the back of his neck. "What I was saying, was that a relationship isn't about owning each other. I most certainly am not your property-"

She squealed in surprise when Vegeta suddenly hauled her down from the balcony railing. He brought his lips down over hers, silencing her with a fiery kiss. Bulma's heart skipped a beat, and she couldn't help but moan into his mouth when he brought one hand up into her hair and deepened the kiss hungrily. Bulma grabbed onto the edges of his armor to remain standing, completely forgetting what they had been talking about.

Vegeta fisted a hand in her hair and forced her head back. Bulma whimpered a little when he slowly ghosted his nose and open mouth from the hollow of her throat, up over the arch of her neck, up to her chin. His hot and heavy breath tickled her skin and sent chills down her spine.

"You talk too goddamned much, woman," he finally growled, letting her go enough so that they could make eye contact. "The truth is that you are mine, and that's that. Now, shut the hell up about it already, because there are certain things you need to tend to."

Bulma didn't even have time to blink before she was suddenly thrown over his shoulder. She shrieked when Vegeta turned to the side and jumped up into the air. He landed on the balcony rail with perfect balance, and then leapt over five balconies until he landed on the one that led to his bedroom.

"Vegeta!" Bulma screeched. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Going to my room. What's it look like?" Vegeta asked nonchalantly, strolling into his room and locking the screen door behind him. He still had one arm around her waist while he walked over to the bed.

"Put me down! We're not in the medieval ages over here!"

The heiress was immediately dropped on his bed. She bounced once and then huffed, sitting up and brushing her hair out of her eyes. "Can you give a girl a little warning the next time you decide to go airborne, please?"

Vegeta stared at her, completely tuning her out. He hadn't lied to her. He had left because he needed to think. He needed to process everything that had happened the day that Trunks snuck out of the compound. He was falling through the cracks when it came to the woman in front of him and his only son, and it unnerved him.

As a warrior, he wanted to resist, even now. As a survivor who thrived on having no attachments, part of him wanted nothing more than to turn around right this moment and never come back. Vegeta frowned and looked over at the balcony door, for what felt like a long time.

He wouldn't last if he left though, and he knew it. He had returned that night to Capsule Corp because he had missed the woman and his son. It was the strangest feeling, the emptiness he had felt without being close to them. He thought his need for Bulma in particular had only been a spur of the moment weakness due to an emotionally exhausting day. He had left to prove himself right. He had wound up proving himself wrong.

Vegeta looked back at Bulma when she took his hand and gently tugged on it in invitation. The prince sighed, and put up no resistance as he fell into his bed with her.

They didn't fall asleep until dawn.

* * *

Bulma slowly opened her eyes when she heard knocking. She blinked tiredly a few times as she slowly realized that she was sprawled on top of Vegeta. She felt the vibrations of his light snoring abruptly stop underneath her, before they both squinted over at the door when it opened.

"Bulma, dear, are you-oh my," Bunny giggled, covering her mouth. Bulma quickly snatched up the bedsheets to cover both herself and Vegeta, but the prince didn't care if the stupid blonde woman had seen him. He grunted and turned his head away, closing his eyes and muttering something under his breath about how much he hated this planet.

"Mom!" a mortified Bulma hissed, her face reddening in embarrassment.

"Sorry, honey! I didn't know that Vegeta had taken this as his new room. I just wanted to find you to see if you were hungry since you missed breakfast and it's almost lunchtime. But I'll let you two rest! You both look like you need it," Bunny said brightly with excitement. She winked at her daughter for a job well done, and then closed the door.

Bulma groaned and buried her face against Vegeta's bare chest. "I thought you locked the door," she said, her voice muffled.

Vegeta sighed. A few of his fingers ran lightly down her naked back without him even realizing it. "I'll kill her after lunch," he grumbled in a voice rough from sleep.

Bulma rolled off him and onto her back, stretching a little. She looked at him, and her mother was right. Vegeta did look tired, though probably not as much as she did. He had been completely insatiable last night, to a degree she had never seen from him before. He hadn't even put up an ounce of resistance when she retrieved a box of condoms, more eager to ravish her than fight with her. They had barely finished one round before he wanted to go again. Finally, after the fifth time, she had needed to tell him that was enough, before he wore her right into the ground. She had no idea what had gotten into him, but he had clearly forgotten that she was only human.

She pulled up the bedsheet around herself and looked over at the time. It was half past eleven in the morning. She didn't need Saiyan hearing to pick up on Trunks screaming for food downstairs. She heard her parents' faint voices right afterwards, and then Trunks was quiet, no doubt stuffing his face with things he shouldn't be eating.

Satisfied that Trunks was taken care of (if not getting spoiled rotten by his grandparents), Bulma laid back down on her side. She propped her head up with one hand, and ran one finger down Vegeta's chest. He frowned when she did, but didn't object. He felt strangely content and relaxed in this moment, and the feeling was only heightened by her soft touch on his tough skin.

"Do you remember how you got all of these?" Bulma asked him curiously, gently tracing out a faded scar. He grunted in the affirmative. "Really?" she asked in surprise.

"Well, it _is _my body," he sneered as though she was stupid, his eyes still closed.

"How'd you get this one?" She grazed a few fingers over a faint line on his stomach.

"Your precious third class dog slammed me into the edge of a cliff," Vegeta spat out bitterly.

Her fingers moved up by his lower ribs to a nastier looking scar. "And this one?"

"I refused to bow to Frieza when his father was present. The bones had ripped the skin by the time he was done," he said with indifference, giving a half-hearted shrug.

Bulma winced a little, before moving her fingers over to his sternum to one of the more pronounced scars on his chest. "And this one?"

"I got a purging assignment and told Frieza to go purge his own fucking planet, because I was tired of doing his dirty work for him. That ended _wonderfully_, let me tell you," Vegeta drawled, his voice dripping with morbid amusement.

"Geez, Vegeta," Bulma sighed, frowning at the trend she was seeing. "Did you _have _to keep antagonizing him?"

The prince opened his eyes and glared angrily at her. "You asked me how I got those specific scars, and I answered. Don't ask questions if you can't handle the fucking answers," Vegeta growled, shoving her hand off him.

"I didn't say I couldn't handle the answers," Bulma said defensively as he climbed out of bed. "I just don't understand why you would push him, knowing he would-"

"That's right. You _don't _understand," Vegeta snarled as he spun around to face her. He was visibly struggling to keep his anger in check as he spat out, "I suppose you would have been pleased to hear that I bowed to the bastard willingly? Kissed his feet? Accepted his assignments with a smile on my face?"

"I didn't say that, Vegeta," Bulma told him, sitting up in bed as she returned his glare. "You don't like me putting words in your mouth, and I don't like it done to me either."

"Well that's what it sounded like to me," he sneered.

"No, it's just…he could have killed you."

"Your point?"

"Why would you chance it?"

"Because there were times when I didn't care one way or the other."

Bulma blinked in surprise. "But, why-?"

"Look, woman. Just because we have this…whatever this is between us, does not mean that I owe you any goddamned explanations for any of my past decisions," Vegeta snapped harshly. He spun around and walked over to his dresser, angrily pulling open the top drawer and digging for a towel.

"I just wanted to-"

"You have no fucking idea what it was like for me back then, and you never will," he growled, heading over to the bathroom without looking at her.

"Vegeta, I didn't-"

The door slammed hard behind him.

Bulma sighed and fell back in his bed. She rubbed at her eyes when she heard the water to the shower start. She had clearly struck a nerve, but all she wanted to do was get to know him a little better. There was still so much she didn't know about him, and she couldn't help her curiosity. But he unfortunately wasn't a project she could easily dismantle to study the circuitry underneath. He would only let her in when he chose to do so.

Bulma listened to the shower running for about a minute, before getting up and slipping her robe on.

Vegeta had his eyes closed, scalding hot water pouring on him as he mechanically scrubbed down one of his arms with a bar of soap, when the curtain snapped back. He opened his eyes in surprise as he turned to look at Bulma who was standing in front of him.

"What the fuck, woman? Don't you see that I'm bathing?" he hissed, snatching the shower curtain and drawing it closed. But Bulma stubbornly pulled it open again.

"I don't care. You're going to let me finish a damn sentence this time, Vegeta," she told him firmly. Vegeta's lip twitched in agitation, before he turned to face her directly. He stared at her in silence, his expression and his eyes unreadable. Bulma took a deep breath when she realized that he was indeed giving her the chance to speak, and so she said, "Look. I didn't mean to offend you or upset you, and I'm sorry that I did. I'm not trying to piss you off, or judge you, or pretend like I know what I would've done if I was in your shoes. I just want to understand you, Vegeta."

"Why? My story isn't rainbows and sunshine," he told her nastily.

"Because I want to know more about you! Don't you want to know more about me?"

"No," Vegeta bluntly spat out. He turned his back to her as he resumed methodically scrubbing himself down.

"Oh come on!" Bulma exclaimed, putting her hands on her waist. She let her eyes roam down the lines of his perfect back for a moment, before continuing, "You mean to tell me that you don't want to know even one little thing about me before I met you?"

He snorted. "I already know everything I need to know about you."

"Oh really?"

"You're annoying, loud, weak, and hideous," he sneered. With that, he turned around and roughly drew the curtain closed again.

"_Well_," Bulma said, in a tone that immediately got his attention. Vegeta raised an eyebrow in curiosity, looking at her outline through the shower curtain. "For being _hideous_, you sure couldn't keep your hands off me last night, now could you, my prince? Hell, if I wouldn't have said that's enough, we would probably still be in your bed."

There was silence for a few seconds, before he pulled the shower curtain back open. He stared at her intensely, casually leaning one forearm on the wall, right under the shower head. Bulma stared back at him, her arms crossed, her eyes confident. They both took each other in, studying each other, trying to puzzle the other one out.

"Fine," Vegeta finally said, his voice neutral.

"Fine what?"

The prince reached up and brushed the wet hair off his forehead. He then cracked his neck, and sighed. "I will answer any question you have for the next five minutes with complete honesty. One time only offer. This will never happen again. However, there are two conditions you must agree to first."

Bulma looked at him in clear surprise, which quickly gave way to curiosity.

"Alright. Shoot. What are the conditions?"

"The first is that you do _not _pity me after any response I give. I mean it, woman. I won't tolerate that bullshit."

"You surviving the things you did deserves admiration, not pity. So don't worry about that." Vegeta blinked, his face scrunching a little in confusion at her response. Admiration? That was a new one. Bulma raised an eyebrow and asked, "What's the second condition?"

A smirk crept over his face at the question. Bulma bit her bottom lip, trying not to blush at the hungry way that Vegeta began undressing her with his eyes. She had done a fantastic job maintaining eye contact with him throughout their conversation, but she let herself enjoy the view now. He was all man, and he was flawless.

And best of all, he was all hers.

"The second condition is that you must ask your questions while in here with me," Vegeta said, his voice a husky rumble.

"How predictable," Bulma sighed with mock boredom, her hands slowly untying her robe. Vegeta absent-mindedly reached down to turn down the heat of the water to more tolerable levels, keeping his eyes on her as he did. "But who can blame you? I wouldn't be able to get enough of me either."

"Actually, since you refuse to leave me in peace, I figure I might as well do something about your filthy stench," he told her, his smirk spreading.

"Have I ever told you that you're a complete jackass?" Bulma asked him, reaching her hand to him.

"I've never denied it," Vegeta chuckled, taking her hand. He stepped aside and helped her step into the shower with him. Bulma turned to face the water, giving him her back. She felt his hands on her waist a second later, before he whispered in her ear, "Your five minutes start now."

Bulma's first question was immediate.

"Did you really call me gorgeous when you were talking to Gohan on Namek?"

Vegeta blinked in surprise, before his eyes narrowed. _Why that no-good half-breed piece of shit!_ Just wait until he saw him again. The brat was getting a broken nose for that one.

"I might have made mention that you were decent-looking, for a human," he grumbled, his hands snaking around her to her stomach as he pulled her against him. Bulma leaned her head back on his shoulder and he took the invitation, nipping at her neck.

"How many women have you been with?"

"I don't remember. I didn't keep track."

"An estimate?"

"Fifteen? Twenty? Shit, woman. I don't know."

"Was any better than me?"

Vegeta chuckled at the slight hint of jealousy in her voice. He brought one hand up and moved her wet hair aside, before whispering his honest answer.

"None."

"Good answer."

Vegeta could hear the smile in Bulma's voice, and it made him feel strangely proud of himself, though he didn't know why. He snuck his hands around her again, bringing one up to her breasts. He patiently explored her by touch alone, even though he had already memorized every inch of her. He had to admit to himself- If things like this were the perks of being in a _relationship, _then he was going to rapidly learn to enjoy this relationship thing.

Bulma was leaning back completely against him, and was breathless when she asked, "Did you ever do anything for fun while you worked for Frieza?"

"We would have drinks sometimes, if the planet we were on had a decent tavern. Otherwise, we would see who could wipe out a city the fastest. I always won that little game though."

A chill went down her spine at his answer. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that _her _Vegeta wasn't _that _Vegeta. Not anymore. She frowned a little and turned around to face him. He kept his hands on her as she did, content with only touching for the time being. She wouldn't let him do anything without a condom, but that didn't mean they couldn't find other ways to have fun after her five minutes were over. His eyes were greedily roaming over her body when Bulma touched a barely visible, mostly faded cross-shaped scar that was right over his heart. He immediately looked up at her, and they made eye contact.

"I thought you said you were afraid of dying before you could kill him," Bulma said, gently outlining the mark that one could only see when they were this close to him. She could feel him tightening with tension as she touched him, before he removed his hands from her completely. "That's why I asked why you would chance it."

"It was only as a man that I finally learned the discipline to play his game and bide my time for revenge. When I was an adolescent, it was a different story. I was never meant to take orders, and so I rebelled, not caring if he killed me. I was young and foolish," he answered almost mechanically.

Bulma nodded with understanding. She gently ran her hands over the marks on his body, as though she could wash away the pain that put them there in the first place. Vegeta frowned and closed his eyes. He was almost rigid with tension. His hands were in tight fists at his sides as Bulma moved her hands up so they were on his shoulders.

"I'm glad you didn't push too much."

"Hn."

Vegeta started to relax when she started massaging his shoulders. He opened his eyes and they stared at each other for a few comfortable seconds. He didn't know what it was, but Bulma made him feel at ease, giving him a rare feeling of peace that eased the eternal tension of his body. Maybe that was the reason why he allowed her to get close to him, physically and otherwise. He frowned and hesitantly brushed a wet strand of hair out of her face, watching as she smiled at him.

He exhaled deeply, shaking his head, before quietly asking, "What have you done to me?"

Bulma put her arms around his neck, making the remaining tension in his body disappear. "Pfft. Me? I haven't done anything to you. Like _I _could ever tame the powerful, dangerous, and ruthless Saiyan Prince," she innocently teased.

A faint smile spread over his face, before he remarked, "One more minute, woman."

"What? It has NOT been four minutes!" Bulma almost whined.

His smile turned into an amused smirk. "We are running on Vegeta time."

"But-"

"Thirty seconds left."

The heiress sighed, before thinking to herself for a few seconds. "Oh, I know. Would you be king by now on your planet?" she finally asked.

"Yes."

"Would you have a queen by now?"

Vegeta blinked a few times, caught completely off guard by that. It took him a moment, before his brows furrowed and he asked, "Why?"

"You never said anything about you asking questions, only me."

"Why?" Vegeta demanded again, undeterred as he frowned at her.

Bulma shrugged nonchalantly. "Because I'm curious to know."

"The next queen is chosen-" Vegeta paused, and sucked at his teeth a bit, before bitterly amending, "…_was _chosen, ahead of time by the current queen. My mother would have chosen my mate while I was still prince. When my title was upgraded to king, the woman would have also been upgraded to queen."

"So you would have had no say at all?"

"Of course I would have had say in the matter. I could have rejected any woman. The queen would have just kept choosing others. If by chance I found a woman on my own who I deemed worthy, then that would have also been acceptable, so long as she was Saiyan."

"I bet you had to be one tough cookie to be a Saiyan queen, huh?"

"Hn."

"You know, you never told me how Saiyans mate-"

"Time's up," Vegeta abruptly said, suddenly backing Bulma up against the wall, making her grab onto him so she wouldn't slip. He put his palms on either side of her head, the water hitting him dead on and running down his face. He didn't even blink as he stared at her. Bulma would be lying if she said she didn't love the way he looked at her in moments like these. She stared back at him as he leaned in close and whispered, "You have two choices. Get out, or get on your knees."

Bulma's eyes skirted down and examined him in intrigue. She looked back up and gave him a look of playful defiance, raising her chin a bit.

"You have to say please if you want the second option."

Vegeta glared at her in silence. Finally, he opened his mouth to say something, but she would never know what because her father suddenly yelled out from outside Vegeta's door.

"Bulma!" They both looked over to the side. "Your mother's gone to her dentist appointment and I have to go to work, dear! You have to come watch Trunks!"

"Well, looks like the first option it is," Bulma chuckled.

"Hn. Just build the half-breed a damn metal cage with a roof, and lock him in there."

"Vegeta!"

"What?" he scoffed. "That's what the brat needs."

"Oh, Vegeta," Bulma sighed as she drew the shower curtain open. She grabbed onto him as she stepped out, reaching out for the towel he had brought for himself. Vegeta immediately drew the curtain closed with a frustrated snarl. Bulma dried herself and asked, "Anything specific you want for lunch?"

_You, legs spread, _he answered silently, his eyes closed as he turned the water up as cold as it would go. He finally sighed and grumbled, "Whatever is edible."

Bulma laughed, "Sounds good."

The prince hissed through his nose in exasperation when he heard her leave. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against the tiles of the shower wall. He wasn't sure how he felt about this. Oh, he knew how he felt about the sex. But he was right with his assessment of Bulma before. She wanted more.

_I only want what you're willing to give, _her voice corrected in his mind.

Vegeta scowled. What the fuck did that even mean? Stupid woman, confusing the hell out of him. He sighed in defeat, going back to bathing as he wondered what he had gotten himself into.

Oddly, he wasn't too opposed to finding out.


	10. Date night

There were gunshots sounding on the TV that night as a bank heist took place a month later. It was the kind of movie that Vegeta actually didn't mind watching, which was why Bulma had put it on. Not only had she put it on, she had made him some caramel popcorn, which he loved. Far from being pleased with her actions, however, Vegeta was instantly suspicious. She had been unusually kind and thoughtful to him the entire day, and he wondered what her end game was.

"What the hell is with you tonight, woman?" he demanded. Bulma looked over at him in feigned surprise.

"What do you mean, Vegeta?" she asked. The prince scowled at her overly innocent tone.

"You want something." He tossed a handful of popcorn into his mouth, his eyes never leaving her.

"What? No I don't," Bulma argued defensively. It was a good thing the lights were off in the living room, so he couldn't see her blush of guilt.

"Hn." Vegeta regarded her suspiciously for a few more seconds, before looking back at the TV as she got closer to him. "Good. Because my answer would be no," he spat out.

"Oh?" Bulma asked with a smirk. Vegeta's eye twitched in agitation as she stole one piece of popcorn from his bowl. He looked at her and raised an eyebrow as she slowly swirled her tongue around the piece of popcorn in her two perfectly manicured fingers. She tried hard not to ruin her seductive moment with laughter when she saw the look on his face. "What if what I want is you? Would the answer still be no?" she asked him sweetly, tossing the piece of popcorn in her mouth.

Just last week, Bulma had finally finished her design for a new and improved, Capsule Corp quality birth control pill. Without the restraint of a condom, their sex life had suddenly become quite healthy as they "tested" how good the new pill was. All for scientific reasons, she had told him.

Science had never been so satisfying.

Today, however, the tables were turned. Usually, _he_ was the one who initiated their physical contact after he got annoyed with her teasing and flirting. It satisfied them both; she got to feel like she was being pursued by a prince, and he got to be in control, deciding when and how he would take her as they coupled on his terms. But today, Bulma had said to hell with that, and had practically jumped him right after lunch, and then again after dinner…not that he had complained. He actually found her aggression to be extremely arousing.

Still, he couldn't help but wonder what triggered this change. His eyes narrowed in suspicion again, before he stubbornly looked away.

"Haven't you had enough for one day, you vulgar woman?" he growled.

"Oh…I see," Bulma said, leaning back away from him. Vegeta blinked at her change in tone, looking back at her. She shrugged a little, before sighing dramatically. "Too bad. I thought that with you being the _Prince of all Saiyans_, that you would definitely be up for another round. I mean, Chi-Chi told me that Goku always had such great endurance…"

_That_ did it.

Some time later, hot panting and thick moans were in the air. It was still dark in the living room, but they were bathed in the light from the TV from the movie that had long been forgotten. Vegeta was still sitting where he had been. Bulma was straddling him, rocking hard against him and thoroughly enjoying every wonderful inch of him. His hands were on her thighs, his eyes closed and his head back as he basked in the pleasure she brought him. His grip on her tightened right to the brink of being painful as she ran her hands up his bare chest, up his shoulders, and then into his hair.

Vegeta sat up straight when he felt her shudder, his hands moving to her back to support her as she grabbed onto him tightly. He held her through her climax, watching her the entire time. Seeing the sheer pleasure on her face, hearing the delicious way she cried out his name, feeling her around him…he couldn't last, his own release following immediately. He groaned, and then fell back against the sofa, with Bulma falling into his chest.

Vegeta was still in a blissful haze, his eyes closed as he tried getting his breath, when Bulma breathlessly said in his ear, "So…I _did _have something I wanted to ask you…"

_I knew it! _Vegeta sighed. He had seen this coming a mile away, and yet here he was. Unable to avoid the situation from happening anyways.

"Miserable, conniving wench," he sneered, though he made no effort to get her off him. He was still inside her, and he was in no rush to lose her heat. "Well? Out with it," he ordered, trying to sound angry that the woman had him imprisoned. But part of him definitely enjoyed her deviousness.

"Well, what do you think about me picking out a room for us to share permanently from now on?"

Vegeta frowned. Despite their renewed sex life together, he had made it a point recently to try to avoid sleeping in the same bed with her. His nightmares over the last couple weeks had returned and intensified, and the reason for them was the woman on him. They were twisted things; his father berating him for being weak and repeatedly bedding a human female. Old enemies coming and exploiting his weakness by brutally killing her and Trunks. Frieza getting his hands on her and forcing him to watch while he-

He opened his eyes to rid the images from his mind. Bulma had her face buried by his neck, her other hand caressing his face. He grunted softly when she moved her hand and started massaging him by his ear, his hands moving to her hips.

"No," he finally said, finality in his voice.

"Why not?" she pressed, sounding as though she had fully been expecting that answer.

Vegeta said nothing. Naturally, he didn't want to risk his pride by allowing the female to see him when he was weak and struggling with his inner fears and doubts in his sleep. But there was something more than just his pride that wanted him to turn down her request. There was also a nagging voice in the back of his mind. It was a voice reminding him of an incident long ago, before the arrival of the androids, when he had fallen asleep in the same bed with Bulma because of his exhaustion.

He had come within a fraction of a second away from blasting her head right off.

Bulma pulled back from him when he remained silent. She put her hands gently on his shoulders, looking her prince in the eye.

"Don't you want to share a room with me, Vegeta?"

He inwardly groaned. Did she have to ask him with that tone, while she looked at him with those impossibly blue eyes that were bright even in the darkness?

"What's wrong with the current arrangement?" he demanded.

Bulma sighed. She had definitely tried to butter him up that day, but this unfortunately wasn't going to be as easy as she thought. She slowly got off him, and Vegeta had to bite his lip hard so he wouldn't vocalize his displeasure with their loss of intimate contact. He raised his hips enough to tug his shorts back up, watching her as he did.

"It's just a room," Bulma sighed, pulling on her nightgown with her back to him. "What's the big deal with us sharing a room?"

"If it's not a big deal that we share one, then why does it matter if we don't?" he snapped.

"Because, I'm tired of the room bouncing. It's like we're sneaking around, and we're both adults!" Bulma told him, looking back at him in exasperation. "I mean, honestly! We're already having sex. It would just be us sleeping together. Literally."

"Hn," he grunted, standing up. Without sparing her a glance, Vegeta walked right out of the living room, though she was soon right on his heels.

"Vegeta…"

"I'm going to bed," he told her, his voice terse. "So get lost, woman."

"Are you serious?" Bulma cried out in disbelief. "I don't understand why you're making this into a big deal-"

Vegeta spun around so fast, she barely caught herself before colliding against him.

"And when I murder you in the middle of the night because of one of my nightmares, then will you consider it to be a big deal?" he snarled. Bulma blinked at him in astonishment, unable to come up with a response as he angrily continued, "Just leave me in peace, wretched female. You have done more than enough to me."

He went to stalk back to his bedroom when she caught him by the arm. Vegeta blinked in surprise at the strength in her grip, turning back to her. They hadn't been together for long, but it was long enough for him to recognize that look in her eyes. It was a look of stubborn determination, and his eye twitched at the sight of it.

"Hey, come on. Don't leave. Let's talk about this."

Vegeta growled low in his throat, before yanking his arm free from her hold. "What is there to talk about? I don't believe I can dumb down my words anymore for you," he sneered.

Bulma crossed her arms in front of her, looking at him sternly. "Don't be a jerk. We've slept together a few times, and it's been fine. Yeah, there was that one time a while back," she relented, frowning at the memory. "But nothing happened, and it's been okay recently."

"By sheer luck and chance," he bit out. "I cannot guarantee that nothing will happen to you in the future."

"Well, I think it would be alright. I trust you, Vegeta."

The anger left his eyes at her words. He observed her carefully, and found himself wanting to give in. But he wasn't sure how he would react if he caused her inadvertent harm in his sleep. He didn't want to find out. Granted, they _had _fallen asleep several times together, and nothing had happened. He scowled and looked off to the side. Was she helping him sleep better, or were those times anomalies and would his control lapse a week or a month from now?

Sensing his indecision, Bulma wrapped her arms around him. Vegeta's scowl deepened as he made no motion to return her embrace.

"Let's just give it a shot and see what happens," she whispered in his ear, the rush of air breaking his resolve. Vegeta allowed her touch for a moment longer, before slowly peeling her off him.

"…Fine," he sighed in defeat. He disentangled himself from her completely. "But if you die at my hands, I will disintegrate your remains and inform your family that I know nothing of your whereabouts," he growled.

"Ooh, such a romantic," she teased, unable to help her smile that he had given in.

"Hn."

"Nothing will happen. I was caught off guard the other time, that's all. It'll be alright this time around," she assured him, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it. She smiled and added, "And I think it's so sweet of you to be worried about my safety."

Vegeta blushed furiously, and yanked his hand away. He gave her a hard glare. "If I had known you would be such a nuisance in my life, I would have killed you back on Namek. Painfully," he snarled.

"Oh, you know that I make your life fun," she told him playfully, giving him a flirtatious wink before turning away. "I'll put our new room together tomorrow!" she called back to him over his shoulder. Vegeta stared after her, before shaking his head and going back to his bedroom, muttering curses to himself about how she must have been a witch in disguise, seducing him and casting spells on him.

Bulma was smiling in excitement as she entered her room. Tomorrow, she would start putting their new bedroom together. It was exciting; she could pick new furniture, pick out new colors, arrange the room however she saw fit.

Well, she would certainly have to get the prince's opinion on things. It was going to be his room too, and she doubted he would enjoy her usual purple color scheme. She frowned a little; she hoped Vegeta didn't have bland taste when it came to this sort of thing. But how could he? He liked _her_, after all, she smugly reasoned.

Yes, tomorrow was definitely going to be a great day.

* * *

The next morning found Bulma and her mother preparing breakfast together, laughing and talking about how Bulma could decorate the new room she would be sharing with the prince. Bunny was beyond ecstatic that the two had finally seen the light, and she was giving her two cents on what style of sheets were good for a rugged man like Vegeta.

Said rugged man was outside in the yard with Trunks, laying down in the grass in his usual spot while the boy played around him. Bulma snuck them a glance, and smiled a little at them. Bunny left the kitchen to go fetch some magazines to share with her daughter when Bulma went shopping later for accessories for her new bedroom. The genius heiress stopped watching the men in her life through the window, and went about setting the table for their usual breakfast.

Half a minute later, she heard Vegeta scream, "WHAT THE FUCK? _GET IT OFF ME!" _

Bulma ran outside a moment later, and blinked at the sight that greeted her. There was Trunks, sitting in the grass and wearing a positively devilish smirk on his face as he held two handfuls of mud in his little hands. Not too far in front of him was the Saiyan Prince, in all his Super Saiyan glory. Vegeta was on his feet, bent over at the waist as he desperately ran his hands through his hair in an effort to get the mud – and accompanying worms – out.

"Vegeta!" Bulma yelled, running over to him. His ki was flared up to the max, and she found that she couldn't actually touch him. "Calm down!"

"WOMAN, I AM GOING TO KILL YOUR SON! THERE ARE WORMS IN MY HAIR!" he screamed, making Bulma bite her bottom lip to stifle a laugh.

"It's okay, just calm down," she told him soothingly, looking over at her son when she heard the little boy giggle. "That's not nice, Trunks," she scolded, though her blue eyes shared Trunks' amusement. "Look at what you've done to your father's wonderful hair! Why, I think I'll have to shave it all off now."

Vegeta roared in some alien language, his ki flaring up around him in his massive distress. Bulma laughed and gave a tsk, coming closer to him. "I'm just kidding! It's okay. Come here, let me see."

He lowered his ki just enough for her to touch him, growling in his irritation as she put her hands by his ears. He was still glaring down at the grass, twitching in discomfort while Bulma gently looked through his hair. Yes, there were indeed worms lurking about, but it was extremely easy to find them with his hair blond. She plucked them all out, and then smiled.

"See? They're all gone," she announced. Vegeta straightened and ran one hand through his alien mane, a fierce scowl on his face as he looked past her at Trunks. "You're going to have to shower and get the mud out, though." His lip twitched as his eyes shifted back to her. "Make it fast. Breakfast is hot right now, and you don't want it to get cold."

"Fuck breakfast," he spat out angrily. He was officially in a bad mood, and he stalked away from both of them as he went back inside, loudly slamming the door behind him. Bulma shook her head, looking back at Trunks.

"See what you've done, young man?" she asked him, putting her hands on her waist.

"Dada, funny!" the little boy said, smiling as he clapped his muddy hands together.

"Well, you might be the only one who can do that to him and live to tell about it," Bulma laughed. "I don't even think I would survive that one. Now come here, let's get you cleaned up so we can have breakfast," she said, scooping the little boy up into her arms and taking him inside.

Bulma placed Trunks in his high chair, chatting with her father about her research, when Vegeta stormed back into the kitchen. He was dressed for his training, and he didn't bother looking at any of them as he stormed right back out, slamming the door again. Bulma rolled her eyes as Dr. Briefs chuckled.

"Trouble in paradise, daughter?"

"Hardly. He just got scared by some-"

Vegeta immediately threw the door back open to the kitchen, startling everyone. His eyes were locked on Bulma's as he stated, "I was _not _afraid. I was disgusted. And I still am."

"Tch! Please," Bulma laughed, waving a hand dismissively as she turned to feed Trunks. "It's not that big a deal. _Everyone_ is afraid of something. You won't lose your manhood if you admit it scared you a little bit."

Dr. Briefs casually raised his newspaper, pretending to find an ad interesting as Vegeta yelled, "I am a Saiyan! I fear nothing, you stupid woman!"

"You better watch your tone, buddy, before I pick out that special collectors pink Barbie bed set that I never got around to getting when I was a kid!" Bulma yelled back at him. Trunks was completely unfazed by the yelling going on as he happily dug into his little bowl of cut pancakes.

Vegeta visibly paled, before his voice escalated, "I'll set that fucking bed set on fire if you do, and make sure that you're on it when I do it!"

"Go ahead and try, and see if I don't set your hair on fire in your sleep!"

"You won't be doing much of anything once you're dead!"

"Oh? And if I died, who would take care of Trunks? You? Please, you would wish me back with the Dragon Balls in days," Bulma said smugly.

Vegeta growled, "Perhaps we should put that theory to the test-"

"Oh my," Bunny brightly said, practically skipping into the kitchen with a slew of pastries that had just arrived via delivery. "A lover's quarrel! How adorable!" she giggled, walking over to Vegeta. He took a step back as she offered him an éclair. "Here you go, sweet boy. Your favorite!"

"His favorite?" Bulma asked in surprise, looking over at the proud warrior who was wearing the biggest blush in the history of the Saiyan race. Even his ears were red.

"Of course! Why, just the other day, Vegeta helped me-"

"SHUT UP!" Vegeta screamed, right before he snatched the éclair out of the blonde woman's hands. He then glared at Bulma, right before he proudly stalked right out of the kitchen towards the gravity room.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up," Trunks happily echoed, through his words came to a halt when he saw the look his mother gave him. He pouted a little, and went back to half-eating, half-smashing his pancakes.

"Here you go, lovelies. Some wonderful pastries to go with breakfast," Bunny said brightly, putting down the white box on the table and opening it. She then handed her daughter a couple of magazines. "And here you go, dear. You can find some great bedroom décor in here."

"Thanks, Mom. And uh, what was that about with Vegeta?" Bulma asked, unable to help her curiosity.

"Oh, that handsome boy just helped me start the oven the other day by using his hand. He's so talented! I gave him an éclair as a prize and he wound up eating the entire tray," Bunny giggled, taking a seat with her family. "He has such a healthy appetite – in more than one way, I bet! Oh, I can't wait until you two give us more grandbabies!"

Bulma blushed a bit, before sighing. "Mom. Dad. You two can't expect so much - more kids, and marriage, and whatever else. We're still getting used to each other."

Dr. Briefs chuckled and put his newspaper aside. "That's alright, dear. We're patient."

"Oh, very patient," Bunny added brightly.

"Oh," Bulma said, blinking at her parents in surprise. She looked at them both suspiciously, before shrugging it off. "Well, alright then. Can you guys watch Trunks? I'm going to get to work early today."

"Of course!"

"Great. Thanks," Bulma said with a smile. She got up and grabbed a pastry from the white box, grabbed the magazines, and headed out.

The Briefs ate in silence for a while, until Bunny spoke up.

"Dear, should we tell Vegeta that we've already bought a ring for him to give Bulma?"

Dr. Briefs shook his head. "No. Give him time, and he'll change his mind on the marriage issue."

Bunny practically fluttered with excitement. "Oh, I can't wait!"

Oblivious to her parents' scheming, Bulma knocked out her work in record time and then flipped through the magazines in question. She circled the things she wanted, and then decided to get Vegeta's opinion to make her final decisions.

Unfortunately, the prince was still in a foul mood over his shitty morning. So when the woman knocked on the gravity room door, he opened it and snarled out, "Are you here offering food or sex?"

Bulma blinked at him in surprise. "What?"

"You heard me."

"Um, no-"

"Then get lost."

He then slammed the door shut in her face. Bulma's shock wore off, and she angrily huffed, looking very much like an impatient child in that split second. She started banging on the door, while he tried his best to ignore her on the other side. But finally, her stubbornness won out and he opened the door again.

"What?"

"Will you stop being such an ass? I want your opinion on what I'm going to order for our new bedroom!"

Vegeta exhaled in annoyance. He knew he shouldn't have given into her demand. Bulma turned to stand at his side, showing him the magazine she was looking at. He scowled as he looked down at it while Bulma pointed to different things, explaining what everything was. The prince reached up to his eyes and rubbed them roughly. His patience now gone, he shoved the magazine away from him.

"Just get whatever the hell you want. I don't care," he growled, before turning and stalking back into the gravity room.

"_Anything _I want?" Bulma asked with an excited grin as she stayed just outside the area of high gravity. Vegeta looked over his shoulder at her, giving her a look of dark warning that made her laugh. "I know, nothing too girly."

"Hn."

"Is there any color in particular that you like the most? Any that's your favorite?" Bulma asked as a last resort. She wanted to get at least _some _input from him.

Vegeta looked her in the eye from across the room. He frowned as his dark eyes subtly shifted over and took in her hair which was long but curled. His gaze lingered for a few seconds, before he turned away and gave her his back.

"Blue," he gruffly answered, eyeing the settings on the control panel.

Bulma smiled. "Blue it is," she said, before turning and leaving him in peace. He pressed the control for the door, and it closed behind her.

Vegeta closed his eyes, resting his hands on the control panel as he leaned over it. Part of him over the last month had been able to pretend that this thing with Bulma was still no-strings-attached, meaningless sex. Maybe part of him still wanted that to be his reality. The problem was though, that not only was he dead wrong, but Bulma's love was also completely addicting. He pretended like he didn't care, but the truth was that he enjoyed the way she looked at him and touched him. He enjoyed their arguments and their intimacy. He enjoyed _her_ in a way he had never enjoyed another female before.

He frowned as he wondered what that meant. Was he getting soft? Weak?

The nightmares didn't help either. Vegeta didn't care what his father would have thought of his budding relationship with Bulma, or the fact that he had a son who was not a full-blooded Saiyan. But if that was the case, then why was he dreaming about what his father would say if he could see him now?

There had been a couple of occasions over the last month when he had come close to ending it completely with Bulma. Occasions when he had brooded and come to the realization that this wasn't honorable. She wasn't Saiyan. She was weakening him in body and mind. He had come to all of these conclusions, and then sought the woman out.

But instead of telling her that he wanted nothing more to do with her, they had ended up making passionate love. Repeatedly. Enthusiastically. Bulma drowned his words with her soft body, and her delicious scent. She made him forget everything and just be in the moment. When they were done, she'd whisper in his ear that she loved him, and all of his strength would vanish. His strength to fight her, his resolve to leave her - it would all disappear with those words. The words that moved him as much as they disgusted him. The words that made him feel like a failure and like a man at the same time.

Vegeta never did get around to training that afternoon. He stood there for a long time, losing himself in his thoughts and also losing all sense of time. It seemed to him that only minutes had passed when his stomach suddenly growled, as though berating him for skipping breakfast. He sighed, a deep sigh that left him feeling drained. Might as well go see what there was to eat.

Also hungry, Bulma was digging through the kitchen, trying to find something to eat. She didn't understand it; she could have sworn the fridges were all stocked that morning. She frowned in confusion as Vegeta walked back in.

"What's there to eat?" the prince immediately demanded.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," she said, her brow furrowing. "Huh. That is just really weird."

He took a seat at his usual spot. He watched her for a moment, before tilting his head and doing a quick ki scan. He scowled. "Where the hell is your insane mother?"

"Oh, she and my dad took Trunks with them to a friend's birthday party at Chuck E Cheese."

"Chuck a what?"

"It's a place for kids to have fun," Bulma patiently explained. She looked over at him and smiled, making him look away. "Our new room is almost set up. I went with a blue color scheme. I just have to move some of my stuff over."

"Hn."

"Do you want to see it?" she asked excitedly. "I got us a king-sized bed, and gave the room a bit of a contemporary look. Of course, we have the best mahogany, and I still have to put the last touches on it-"

"Woman, it's just a place to sleep and fuck. Now since your mother isn't here, prepare me something to eat at once."

Bulma's smile dissolved as she gave him an even glare. She shook her head, turning back to the open cabinet in front of her, grumbling under her breath, "Such a jerk. Don't know why I bother sometimes."

Vegeta heard her of course, but remained silent. After all, he didn't know why she bothered either.

"There's nothing to eat here," Bulma finally sighed. Her eyes suddenly brightened with excitement as she spun back to face her Saiyan lover. "Oh, I know! Let's go out somewhere for dinner!"

Vegeta scoffed in disgust. "What, the way you used to go out with that scarfaced idiot? I don't think so."

"This isn't a date, Vegeta, it's just us going out for dinner. There's nothing to eat here."

"Order some pizzas then."

"But I don't want pizza."

"Too bad," he growled, crossing his arms stubbornly over his chest as he looked away. "I saw those places where humans go to get their nourishment when I was looking for the boy. I won't mingle with such common, low class human scum."

"But I know this great steakhouse we can go to," Bulma said knowingly, smiling as he looked over at her in curiosity. "And it's all you can eat." He remained stubbornly silent, but his stomach spoke for him when it growled again. He blushed a little as Bulma snickered, "Well, sounds like that's a yes. Go get dressed, and we'll go."

"Hn. Fine," he spat out, getting to his feet. He was hungry, and the more they argued, the more his meal was delayed. He stalked out of the kitchen without another word as Bulma excitedly followed suit.

Not having broken a sweat in his training today, Vegeta skipped taking a shower. It took him all of two minutes to pick out a dark blue polo shirt and some khaki pants and get dressed. Needless to say, when half an hour passed and Bulma still wasn't ready, he got pissed.

"What the fuck is taking you so long, woman!" the prince yelled, impatiently banging on the door to her private bathroom.

"I'm almost ready!" Bulma cried out in exasperation on the other side.

"You said that ten minutes ago!"

"For real this time! Just five more minutes!"

Inside the bathroom, Bulma smirked when she heard Vegeta growl and angrily unleash a string of curses in a language she didn't understand on the other side. She had no idea what he was saying, but damn, did he sound sexy as hell when he spoke in his foreign alien languages. She had her face inches away from a mirror as she expertly applied her eyeliner. It wasn't a date…

Okay, it was a date. She smiled, hearing her prince pacing in her bedroom on the other side of the door. He was like a lion; powerful, predatory, and unwilling to be tamed. The thought of going on a date with him made her stomach flutter with happiness. It wasn't a big deal in itself; they were just going to get dinner. But it was with _Vegeta, _the man she was hopelessly in love with to the brink of it being pathetic. So she took her time, making sure her makeup was perfect and uncaring that there was a starving and angry Saiyan male right outside of her door. She wanted to look good for him, and if it took a little longer, then so be it.

Fifteen minutes later, Vegeta's patience finally snapped. "That's it!" he yelled, stalking over to the door in quick strides. "I'm dragging you out of there this instant-"

Bulma opened the door right as he was about to knock it off its hinges. Vegeta stopped, and he briefly forgot how to breathe at the sight of her. His eyes scanned over the stylish way she had pinned up half of her hair, the wonderful form-fitting dress that showed just barely enough cleavage, the way it came down so snugly on her thighs, her sexy stilletos…he was rock hard by the time his eyes worked back up to meet hers.

_Bingo, _Bulma thought to herself in smug satisfaction when she saw the way the prince was staring at her. She confidently brushed some loose curls out of her face.

"See something you like?" she teasingly asked. Vegeta's eyes narrowed, and she gave him a flirtatious smirk, slowly turning around to give him a good view of herself.

She barely had time to blink before Vegeta suddenly had her face down and bent over the bathroom counter in front of him.

They didn't leave for another hour.

Vegeta had his arms crossed over his chest some time later, staring out the window of the vehicle he found himself trapped in. Bulma had problems with her hover jet, so they had taken out one of her cars instead. And as their luck would have it, they were stuck in dead end traffic.

He growled in agitation, "What is taking so goddamned long?"

Bulma rolled her eyes; she had thought he would be more relaxed after their hot round in the bathroom, but all it had done was make him hungrier. She was practically starving herself, so she could only imagine how hungry the Saiyan was.

"It's rush hour, Vegeta. Sometimes this happens."

"If we aren't at our destination in five minutes, then I am officially having a human barbecue."

"Oh, just relax. Here. Listen to some music," Bulma told him brightly, turning on the car radio. When he recognized the tune playing as one of the horrible auditory assaults she had once rained on him, Vegeta punched the radio, his fist impaling the metal and sending sparks flying.

"Vegeta!" Bulma cried out in shock. "What did you do that for, you jerk?"

"That's what you get for torturing me with that shit long ago," he sneered, pulling his fist back and crossing his arms again. "Now hurry up, or you will be the first human I eat."

Bulma smirked a little, "I'm the only human you-"

"Shut up!" he yelled, his face flushing hot red in embarrassment as he realized his mistake too late. He angrily looked out the window, muttering under his breath over how vulgar she was. "Just hurry up, before I level this city," he grumbled.

"I will as soon as traffic clears," she told him, lowering her window to get some fresh air. She sighed, casually leaning her arm out of the car window, her fingernails drumming along the metal of her custom-made, highly aerodynamic, sleek sports car.

"Hey hotness!" some leering men in the car next to her yelled over. Bulma rolled her eyes, not even bothering to look over. "How's about you come with us to a party?"

Vegeta scowled, "Who are those fools talking to?"

"They're just being stupid," Bulma said, purposely answering him loudly so they could hear.

"Aw come on girl, don't be like that! Hey, how about you lean over and show us what you got under that dress-"

Vegeta leaned forward enough to look past Bulma and snarled in a deadly voice, "How about I go over there and rip your limbs off, you weaklings?"

"Hey little man, ain't no one talking to you-"

The prince threw the car door open and was outside immediately as Bulma covered her face with her hand, sighing an almost silent _oh shit _under her breath. She peeked out through her fingers as Vegeta walked over to the offenders' car, slammed his fist right through the hood, and hauled out the now shattered engine and sparking wires. He then dropped it all on the ground, and slammed his black boot onto the remnants of the engine.

The men stared at him in fear as he bared his teeth threateningly at them. He then stalked back over to Bulma's car and got in.

"That really wasn't necessary, Vegeta," she sighed in disapproval.

"Hn. Drive," he ordered, seeing that the traffic was starting to move.

_Well, hopefully the rest of the evening will run smoothly, _Bulma mused to herself as she drove them along.

In retrospect, if she had known how their date would turn out, she would have just ordered them some pizza and called it a night.

She should have known things would be difficult when Vegeta balked at waiting to be seated, walked on inside the fancy steakhouse, and attempted to force a couple out of their table so he and Bulma could sit. When Bulma hauled him back, he started yelling that he was sick and tired of waiting to eat, and that no low level humans were going to eat before him. They started drawing attention, and finally, Bulma slipped someone an impressive bill to have them seated immediately. That calmed the Saiyan down, much to her relief.

Finally, the couple was seated in the corner by the glass windows. Vegeta was grumbling under his breath that it was about fucking time as he took his seat.

"You're supposed to pull out the seat for the lady, you know," Bulma informed him, sitting down across from him. She wasn't angry that he hadn't; he simply didn't know.

"I'm supposed to what now?" Vegeta asked, looking around and taking in his surroundings. He was practically salivating. There were different servers walking about with huge slabs of different meat.

"Pull out the seat for me so I can sit."

"Why?"

"Because it's polite."

"It's not polite, it's stupid."

"It's not stupid, it's romantic."

"You have two hands, don't you?" he growled, before yelling out at a server, "Hey, human! Come here!"

"Vegeta!" Bulma hissed, her face turning red. "You can't just call people _humans _like that-"

"But that's what they are. Filthy, disgusting humans-"

"Yes, sir. Would you like to try some of this garlic top sirloin?" the young server asked politely, showing Vegeta the enormous slab of meat he was carrying on a sword.

"Hn," Vegeta grunted, licking his lips as he eyed the meat in question.

"We'll both have some, please," Bulma piped up, smiling politely.

The server smiled back and began cutting a small piece off the slab of meat. He put it on Bulma's plate, and then began cutting a piece for Vegeta when the Saiyan stated, "You can leave now, boy."

"Oh," the server said, blinking in surprise. "Alright."

He turned to leave, only to find that Vegeta had his hand gripped over his, both hands over the sword handle.

"Leave the meat, boy, and get lost." Without waiting for any response, Vegeta yanked the sword out of the server's hand, and laid the enormous slab of meat down right in front of him.

The young man's face was full of astonishment, "Sir, I can't just leave my entire slab-"

"It's okay," Bulma spoke up, nodding and giving him a relaxed smile. "He'll finish it. See?" she said, gesturing to the prince who was already eating at a frightening pace as he began devouring the meat in front of him.

"Oh," the server said, blinking at Vegeta in shock. "Well, alright then. Hope you both enjoy."

"Thanks." Bulma watched the Saiyan in front of her eat for a few seconds, and then stood up. "I'm going to go get us some sides for the meat at the salad bar. I'll be right back."

Vegeta grunted, not even looking up as he continued enjoying his meal. The meat was absolutely fantastic. He had thought it couldn't get much better than Bunny's cooking, but he was wrong. This was outstanding! Why the hell hadn't the woman brought him here before?

He watched Bulma in renewed interest as she filled up two plates for them at the salad bar. He scowled in disapproval when men passed by, giving the oblivious heiress subtle once-over's. Bulma was no longer wearing her gorgeous dress; it was shredded and in pieces from when he had taken her earlier that night. She had changed into a more casual set of dress pants and a simple yet stylish gray blouse, no longer caring that much about her attire.

He was over three quarters of the way done by the time Bulma returned. She smiled when she saw that he was almost done. Saiyans and their appetites.

"Here you go. I got us some bread and salad so we don't keel over from the meat overdose."

"Woman, why haven't you mentioned this place to me before?"

Bulma looked surprised by the question. "Well, I didn't think you'd want to come. What do you think?"

"It's decent."

"I knew you would like it," Bulma said brightly, picking up her own utensils. "So, we're going to start potty training Trunks soon." Vegeta chewed his meat quietly, but at the confusion in his eyes, she explained, "To get him out of diapers. He's still a little young age-wise, but he's been on this independent streak lately."

"Damn boy's lucky I didn't blast him to the next dimension after that shit he pulled this morning," he grumbled, picking up a piece of bread.

"Aw, you know you love him."

Vegeta frowned and looked back down at his food, falling back into silence. He didn't know what to say to that; he quite simply just didn't understand the concept of love.

Sensing his discomfort, Bulma changed the subject. "Oh, I was going to tell you! I have some exciting news-"

"Fuck, you're not pregnant again, are you?" he asked, his eyes widening in alarm.

"What? No!"

"Oh, thank the gods," Vegeta muttered under his breath.

Bulma frowned at him, before continuing, "_Anyways! _No, I'm not pregnant, but I still have great news."

"Hn," he grunted, cleaning off the sword in front of him.

"Krillin and 18 are getting married!" she gushed in excitement.

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Fantastic," he replied dryly. "The fool is marrying someone who fully intended on destroying everyone on the planet just for personal amusement."

Bulma raised a playful eyebrow, "Well, everyone could say the same about me and you."

"Me and you are never getting married."

Bulma's smile suddenly became strained. "Of course not," she said, but Vegeta wasn't paying any attention to her as he barked at another server to come over so he could sample more meat. Bulma sighed and stood up, "I'm going to get more bread."

He grunted absent-mindedly, focused more on the young girl coming over with a rack of lamb. Everything he had eaten was nothing but an appetizer for him. Bulma sighed again and left.

She shouldn't have felt envious of her friend; she knew it, but she kind of couldn't help it. She supposed she should have just been content with her relationship as it stood with Vegeta. Still. It was a little disappointing to her that he was so against marriage. Not that it bothered her tremendously, and it certainly wasn't a deal-breaker or anything. But it would have been nice.

_Oh well, _she thought, loading another plate with salad, _Can't get greedy. He's never even been in a real relationship before -_

Bulma squealed in shock when someone grabbed her on the shoulders by surprise, almost dropping her plate. Back in the corner of the restaurant, Vegeta immediately stopped eating and looked up when he felt her weak ki spike in fear. He looked past everyone else in the restaurant, his eyes settled right on her, his muscles instinctively tensed for bloodshed if anyone had harmed her. His eyes narrowed when he saw her spin around, one her hand over her heart as she faced the man who had snuck up behind her.

"Oh, God, Richard," Bulma breathed out, willing her heart to slow down. "Don't do that to me!"

He laughed, "Sorry, but you just looked so deep in thought. I had no idea you came here!"

"I've been here a couple times. I thought it'd be a nice change of pace tonight," she told him with a smile. If she could sense ki, she would have sensed a certain Saiyan's ki surging right now in response to his jealousy. "How are you? Who are you here with?"

"Just some guys from work. Want to come by and say hello?"

"Oh, yeah, sure. But I have to make it fast, I'm with someone right now. I don't want to be rude or anything."

"Oh okay, sure thing," Richard chuckled good-naturedly. He gave her a lopsided smile and motioned with his head to the side. "We're over here. Come say hi."

"Alright," Bulma agreed as he turned away. She looked over and made eye contact with Vegeta, and motioned to him that she'd be back in one minute. He stared at her hard, warning in his dark eyes, but she was too far to see it as she turned and went over with Richard.

"Hey guys, look who I found," Richard said, gesturing to Bulma. Everyone smiled at the sight of the genius heiress, and greeted her kindly. She returned the greetings, laughing and cracking a joke over what one of her engineers was wearing as Richard casually put his hand on Bulma's lower back.

As soon as physical contact was made, Vegeta came in out of nowhere and grasped Richard tightly on the throat. Everyone's eyes widened as the Saiyan wrenched the engineer away from his woman, his grip excruciatingly tight.

"Vegeta! What the hell are you doing!" Bulma yelled at him, but he completely ignored her. When another of the engineers tried to get the smaller man to let go of his friend, Vegeta grabbed him and effortlessly sent him flying across the restaurant.

Chaos immediately followed as everyone stood up to try to leave, wanting nothing to do with Vegeta's strength. The Saiyan had Richard on his knees in front of him, uncaring that the man's face was unnaturally red as he tried clawing his way free, or that Bulma was trying in vain to pull him off and yelling right in his ear for him to let go. This man had touched his woman, and Vegeta's natural instincts as a Saiyan male had immediately kicked in. The fact that he hadn't killed the weaker man outright was in itself remarkable, considering every instinct wanted him to.

"She's mine, fool," he snarled in Richard's face. "I'll teach you not to touch my woman-"

Vegeta suddenly let go when Bulma slapped him hard across the face. He was shocked beyond words as he stared at her in blank astonishment; he hadn't even sensed the blow coming. He didn't even notice when the few people who were still there surrounded Richard, who was coughing and hacking on the floor.

"Good. I finally got your attention," Bulma hissed at the man in front of her.

Vegeta's shock melted into a fury he hadn't felt in a long time as he glared at her. His fists were clenched almost painfully tight, as he fought down his natural urge as a warrior to physically retaliate. His short nails were digging into his palms and drawing blood as he tried keeping himself in check, and not kill this woman outright for having the audacity to strike him. This was why he warned her not to do so. She put his anger to the ultimate test.

"I told you not to do that again, Bulma," Vegeta finally said, his voice unsteady with his rage.

"And I told you that I'm not your fucking property, Vegeta!" Bulma yelled at him.

"He put his hands on you! Did you think I was fucking joking when I told you that you're mine?" Vegeta yelled back.

Bulma strode up to him until she was right in his face, both of them almost nose-to-nose, "You aren't going to tell me who I can and can't get close to, do you hear me?"

"Like hell I can't," Vegeta snarled, staying still. "Where I come from, a man who touches another man's woman is asking to die-"

"I'm an engineer, and guess what, buddy? I work mostly with men!" Bulma shrieked in his face. She poked him right on the chest, her eyes burning with anger, "And you will NOT assault MY employees over something so trivial! You are a prince, not a territorial animal, and you will act like it or we are fucking done, do you understand me?"

He furiously shoved her hand off him. Too enraged for words, Vegeta fiercely stared her down. She met his stare with her own intimidating one. Without another word, the prince turned around and walked right out of the restaurant. She could practically feel his power as his ki skyrocketed, and then he took to the air and was gone.

Bulma sighed, turning back to the mess that had been created. She didn't enjoy hitting him, but nothing else had worked. When her words and her pulling hadn't worked to get him off her chief mechanical engineer, she had gone to her last resort. And she didn't regret it. He had embarrassed her tonight beyond belief. His jealousy of other men around her had been endearing before, but not so much anymore.

It took almost two hours before she finally left the restaurant. She apologized to Richard until she was completely blue in the face, and finally got his reassurance that he wouldn't quit his job over this by offering him an additional paycheck this month. Then she had the restaurant owners to deal with, who were not at all pleased that their entire dinner crowd had been lost. Then the police came, since someone had called for them while Vegeta was seconds from killing Richard. And finally, the cherry on top: the media was waiting for her as soon as she stepped outside.

It was one hell of a way to end her date, though she was fairly certain more had been ended tonight. Needless to say, Bulma was hardly in the mood to talk when her mother greeted her at the door later that night.

"Hi sweetie," Bunny said brightly, not at all surprised to see her daughter returning so late. "I got your text message earlier. How did your outing with Vegeta go?"

"Fine," Bulma sighed. "How's Trunks?"

"He's sleeping."

Bulma nodded, "That sounds kind of good right now. I think I'm gonna go do that too."

"Alright. Have a good rest!"

"You too," Bulma grumbled as she went upstairs.

She sighed when she walked past the room she was now supposed to be sharing with Vegeta, before pausing and looking in. So much for that; she was certain as she was breathing that he would walk away now, because she had slapped him and told him off in a way that perhaps no other female had ever done before. In retrospect, he had only been acting on instinct. He didn't know any better.

But Bulma had specifically told him that she wasn't going to be viewed as his property! Did he think she was joking? She huffed a little, and then decided that she was going to sleep in this room tonight. After all, she had already bought this nice new bed and furniture. Might as well get at least one good sleep in, before she sent it all back tomorrow.

After taking a relaxing shower and changing for bed, she crawled into the new and very lonely king sized bed. She grabbed a pillow, hugging it and sighing when she saw the time. It was nearing midnight, and Vegeta hadn't made any appearance of any kind. She bit down her disappointment, and told herself that she shouldn't have gotten her hopes up.

_Should've just ordered some pizza, _she thought tiredly as she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

Four hours later, she stirred when she heard a sliding sound. Squinting her eyes open, she immediately recognized the silhouette of the man stepping into the room.

"Vegeta?" she asked tiredly as he closed the balcony door behind him. "You're here?"

She could barely see him as he turned to face her, his face masked by the shadows of the room. His rough voice was angry as he said, "This _is_ the new room you were bitching about, is it not?"

Bulma rolled onto her side, not looking at him so he couldn't see her small smile. "It is."

He was still too angry to say anything more as he stalked into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. Bulma could hear the shower running a few seconds later. Sleep was now completely impossible, and so she just laid there, waiting for him. Five minutes later, Vegeta came out, stark naked and towel drying his hair. He tossed the towel aside and got into bed with her, laying down on his side, both of them giving the other their back.

Both wanted the other to apologize, but both were unwilling to apologize to the other. And so neither fell asleep as they laid there in silence, the stubbornness and tension in the dark room off the charts.

Finally, Bulma spoke first, almost fifteen minutes later.

"I thought you weren't going to come back."

He hadn't wanted to. He had spent hours in the gravity room beating himself into the ground to beat the need for this woman out of his system. But then she had returned, and he found himself unable to stay away. He was pissed at her and he wanted to yell at her and berate her. He wanted to ravage her and claim her. He wanted her to submit to him and admit that yes, she was his, and that she wouldn't even so much as look at another man again.

But he knew she never would. She would fight him until the bitter end, and damn if it didn't keep bringing him back to her.

"We end on my terms," he finally growled. "Not yours."

"Does that mean you're going to apologize for being an asshole tonight?"

Vegeta scoffed. "_You _struck _me. _If anyone here is going to apologize, it's going to be _you_."

"I don't think so. You have no idea what it took to get Richard not to quit. And then all the shit I had to deal with because of you."

"Too bad. Next time, don't go off with another man."

"I just wanted to say hi to my coworkers!"

"And how the fuck was I supposed to know that!"

"Well, since you clearly jumped to conclusions tonight and nearly killed one of my employees, you should apologize to me!"

"I will do no such thing! You are the one who physically attacked me, so you should apologize! If I ever struck you in the face, I would apologize!"

"If you ever hit me in the face, I'd probably die so I wouldn't even hear the apology!"

"Not my fault you're so pathetically weak," he spat out.

"Fine. I will apologize for hitting you, IF you apologize first for attacking Richard. After all, you're supposed to trust me, and you clearly didn't tonight."

He snorted in disgust. "I don't trust anyone, female. And that includes you."

Silence fell between them after that. Bulma slowly got closer to him, and he closed his eyes when he felt her hand snake under his arm, over his bare chest. She sighed and nuzzled her nose against him, her apology in her touch as she lovingly caressed him.

"That's the problem. I need you to trust _me_, Vegeta," she told him quietly in his ear. "I'm not going back to Yamcha. I'm not going to hook up with Richard, or any other male employee. It's just you. But I need you to see that. I need you to believe me."

He said nothing, and didn't move for such a long time, that Bulma thought he had fallen asleep. Finally though, he rolled onto his back, looking up at her as she leaned over him.

"That's the last time you hit me."

"Only if that's the last time you make me. I don't like hurting you, Vegeta, but I couldn't get through to you. I didn't know what else to do."

"Hn. Fine."

"So you apologize then for being a jerk?" Bulma asked him, the anger gone from her voice. It was a learning process for both of them, she conceded to herself. But they would get through it together. She trailed one nail down his chest, to his stomach, and then lower, dipping her hand under the sheets.

He flipped her onto her back right before she could reach his manhood, pinning her hands down. "I don't apologize, human," he spat out as he stared down at her.

"My gosh, your ego is ridiculous," Bulma grumbled, trying her best not to surrender to him when he spread her legs and grinded his hips down against hers.

"You should talk. Your ego is just as bad, and you are just as stubborn as I am, you miserable wench."

"You're such an asshole sometimes-" Bulma's breath hitched when he rocked his erection against her. He smirked at her reaction.

"I know," he chuckled, bending down to nip at her jaw, before whispering in her ear, "It won't ever happen again."

"Then I won't ever hit you again," Bulma whispered back, her voice breathless when he trailed his tongue over her pulse.

"Well then," he mumbled against her skin. "Let's put this blasted room to good use, woman."

Now _that_, she could agree to.


	11. Deeply and fundamentally

Bulma never felt more helpless in her life than she did the following month, as she saw first-hand just how much Vegeta suffered in his sleep. It hurt her heart to watch him, knowing there was nothing she could really do to help him. She never dared touch him to wake him up, though as the nights passed and his nightmares intensified, she was becoming tempted to do so.

She was sitting up in bed now, her blue eyes tired and filled with concern. She had woken up to dancing blue lights in their bedroom, before realizing that Vegeta was unconsciously raising his ki in his sleep again. His hands were clenched, random light sparking around them like a fire that couldn't quite catch. It was a sight that had scared her half to death the first time she woke up to it, but as the weeks passed, she realized that the ki he gathered would never fire without his conscious command, and her fear slowly disappeared.

Bulma sighed, at a loss on what to do as she watched him breathe heavily in bed next to her, his sweat-slicked body twitching uneasily in his tortured sleep. His muscles were strained, and she could clearly see how tense he was. She found herself in this position at least a few times a week, and each time, she simply decided to let him be. Sometimes, Vegeta's mind calmed in his sleep and he would sleep easily. Most of the time though, he eventually jolted awake. When the latter happened, she would feign sleep to spare his pride.

The first week, when Vegeta woke up like that, he left the room altogether to go train, no matter what time it was. But then over the following weeks, he slowly started staying in bed with her instead of leaving. She wouldn't face him, but she could feel him get close to her from behind nonetheless. Vegeta never embraced her, but his breath was always close to her skin as he shared her pillow. He would eventually go back to sleep, and he would rest easily for the rest of the night. In that way, Bulma offered him comfort. Maybe he knew that she was awake; maybe he didn't. She didn't know. In the morning, neither of them ever talked about it.

But now, Bulma was tired of pretending. She wanted to help him, and with that dogged determination of hers, she decided to do just that. Knowing full well the risk she was taking, she very slowly inched her way closer to him.

"Vegeta?" she quietly asked. When he didn't respond to her, she inched closer, strategically moving up by his shoulder so she wasn't in easy reach of his hands, which were still glowing with a flickering blue light. She leaned down close to him and whispered in his ear-

"_Everything's okay."_

"_Everything's not okay!" Vegeta furiously yelled as he paced back and forth. He was dressed in royal armor, his cape flowing behind him with grace that contrasted sharply with his rage. In front of him, watching him, was a beautiful woman with wavy blue hair, dressed in the regal colors of a queen. "He's already made his demand, and he's threatened the whole planet if I don't give him what he wants!"_

"_Well, what does he want?" _

_He pacing came to a stop. "He wants our son," he finally said, his back to her. "He wants Trunks."_

_Her tone changed at that. "But, Trunks is just a baby. What could he possibly want with a baby?"_

"_Raise him as his own," he answered, his voice unusually monotone. "Torture him, corrupt him…"_

"_Well, we can't give him our son, Vegeta!"_

"_Don't you think I know that, Bulma?" he snarled, resuming his pacing. "But what the hell can I do? I am not strong enough to challenge him," he spat out in a bitter voice. "It's Trunks, or it's the entire planet…I am a king, I am supposed to protect my people…"_

"_You would sacrifice your own heir and hand him over to Frieza?" Bulma asked him in disbelief. _

_Vegeta felt sick to his stomach just hearing the words. Torn between his duty as king and as a father, he looked down._

"_I don't know what to do," he quietly confessed._

"_We can hide Trunks. I'll go with him. We'll hide until it's safe." _

_Vegeta shook his head at the suggestion. "If he finds out, he'll kill you both-"_

_She was suddenly right in front of him. Her soft hands were on his face as he helplessly stared at her. "It's okay, Vegeta…"_

"…Everything is okay," Bulma whispered, running one hand soothingly through his hair. She kissed him gently on his temple. "You're okay. Just-

"-_sleep. We'll plan out the details tomorrow."_

"_There is no time for sleep," he growled. "It has to happen tonight. Get the boy, and I will order a ship prepared at once."_

"_You're being impatient-"_

_Vegeta roughly grabbed her by the arm, hauling her to him. "Woman, don't you see? He will come for the boy in the morning! I will orchestrate a ruse that you and Trunks were both killed tonight by an unknown enemy. No one will know except my most trusted men. You two must leave tonight. I can't…I can't give him my son…"_

"_Alright. We'll go back to my planet on Earth, where we will be safe."_

_He nodded, loosening his grip on her arm. "I will come for you both. I promise-"_

"_My, isn't this touching? Such a shame though that I always get what I want. But you would know that well, wouldn't you, Vegeta?"_

_Vegeta spun around, shock on his face at the sight of Frieza standing right in front of him. He was immediately struck down hard, landing face first on the floor. He struggled to get up, but there was an unbelievable force holding him down. _

"_I'm terribly offended that you actually tried to do this, Vegeta. All I wanted was the boy. Couldn't have him grow up and kill me, now could I? It wouldn't have been so bad. You know that I raise my Saiyans with the best of morals and character," Frieza chuckled. "But if the death of your mate and your son are what you want to plan…"_

"_No, don't!" Vegeta screamed, though he was helpless as he watched Frieza fire a beam that killed Bulma on the spot. He squeezed his eyes shut, tears burning his eyes as Frieza forced him onto his back. _

"_I told you never to make attachments like this, Vegeta. But you never did learn. Looks like I will have to teach you the hard way."_

_Vegeta looked up, to see Frieza standing over him. He had Trunks gripped by the back of his pajamas, exactly how the prince always grabbed the boy. Trunks was terrified and bawling his eyes out as Vegeta weakly reached up for him._

"_Think of it this way. The boy was never a true Saiyan to begin with. You said it yourself, didn't you? Nothing but a half-breed bastard…"_

_The room was suddenly white, and a fist collided hard against the side of a teenager's jaw. _

"_Nothing but a half-breed bastard," Vegeta snarled, staring at the lavender-haired teenager in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber with him. Trunks was wiping the blood off his lips after being struck down as he slowly sat up. "How dare you presume to know one goddamned thing about me, boy?"_

"_It's just what Gohan once told me, Father. I didn't mean to insult you…" Trunks awkwardly said. _

"_Your existence insults me," Vegeta spat out, before turning around and walking away. _

"_See?" Frieza asked, chuckling again as he tightened his grip on the infant version of Trunks. "You don't really care," he said, right as he raised his free hand to break Trunks' neck._

Vegeta jerked awake immediately, sitting up and backing up in one motion, practically slamming back against the backboard of the bed. He was shaking miserably as his tear-filled eyes settled on the woman next to him. Bulma was there, and she was alive and well. He reached out mentally to his son, but the boy was sound asleep in his crib, just a few doors away. He was so unbelievably relieved that he still had both of them with him, that he didn't know what to make of it.

Just as quickly as he was relieved though, he was overwhelmed with shame that Bulma was seeing him this way.

"You okay? You want to talk about it?" she gently asked him. She reached up to his face, but Vegeta angrily swatted her hand away.

"I'm fine," he hissed, before throwing the blankets off him. He felt weak, but he forced himself onto his feet anyways. He haphazardly pulled his shorts on as he avoided looking at the woman in the bed they now shared. The more each second passed, the angrier he became.

"Vegeta…"

"I said, I'm fine!" he furiously yelled at her. Before she could get another word out, he went into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him.

Bulma waited for him as patiently as she could, but her patience lasted all of about five minutes. When she didn't hear any sounds coming from the bathroom, and there was still no sight of him, she figured to hell with it. She was going to check on him, and she didn't care what he had to say about it. Without a sound, she stood up and slipped on the nearest oversized t-shirt she could find. She then went over to the bathroom, and without knocking, she quietly opened the door.

Vegeta was sitting down against the wall, and he tensed when she opened the door. He angrily looked away from her, not wanting her to see his face.

"Get out, Bulma," he ordered, his voice unusually hoarse.

"How can I help?" she asked, undeterred.

"You can't."

"But I want to."

"Why, because you fucking pity me now?" he snarled nastily, still avoiding her eyes.

"I don't pity you," she sighed. "I just want you to be okay."

"I'm fine," he said, waving an indifferent hand at her, telling her to get lost without needing to say it.

"Vegeta-"

"What don't you understand! I SAID I'M FINE!"

Silence. He glared at the shower curtain, his breathing unsettled, and his hands unsteady. Whether that was from his nightmare or from his anger that she was there, he didn't know. All he knew was that right now, he hated her. He hated her for making him have these new nightmares, as if the old ones hadn't been enough. He hated her for making him care. That he could have such dreams featuring her meant one thing-

She was changing him. Deeply and fundamentally. And he wasn't sure that he liked it.

He growled in warning when she knelt down next to him. "Bulma…"

She ignored him as she hugged him from the side, her arms going around his neck. He felt stripped of his strength as she kissed his cheek, before whispering in his ear, "I know you're strong, Vegeta, but I'm here for you anyways. So stop pushing me away."

Vegeta didn't react, staying silent. He kept his eyes and his hands away from her, but she didn't mind as she hugged him anyways. They stayed that way for about a minute, before he finally turned to her. Without a word, he put his arm around her and pulled her against him, closing his eyes and burying his face against her neck. He wanted the comfort that only she could offer him as he finally dropped his guard and hugged her close.

It was the first time he had ever returned her embrace. It was also the first time that he didn't care that it went against everything he had ever been taught. Right now, he just wanted to be close to her. It was really just that simple.

Bulma hugged him back, massaging the back of his neck with one hand. His grip on her tightened, and she was moved even though he hadn't said a thing. They stayed that way for a long time, in silence as his breathing finally settled, while she soothingly rubbed his back.

She finally drew back from him just a few inches, and Vegeta raised his head when she did. Bulma gently put her hands on the sides of his face, and he was instantly reminded of his dream. He didn't fight her as she softly kissed him, but his mind was clouded.

When she sensed that Vegeta wasn't fully into it, Bulma pulled away. She looked him in his bloodshot eyes, and saw nothing there except pure exhaustion.

"Come on, let's go back to bed," Bulma finally whispered.

Vegeta didn't say anything as she stood up, her hands grabbing onto his when she did. She gave his hands a tug, and he frowned and got up to his feet too. He followed her wordlessly back into the bedroom while she pulled him along, but he stopped when she climbed into the bed.

Realization suddenly dawned on him in that moment, and it made him pull free from her hands and take a step back. From the bed. From her.

Bulma gave him a look of confusion that he saw clearly, even in the dark bedroom. "What's wrong?" she quietly asked him.

Vegeta could barely find the words to speak. He had been so distraught over his nightmare - being put in his father's position by Frieza, seeing Bulma die, seeing the rough way he had treated his teenaged son from the future, that one very important detail had slipped past his mind:

He had dreamt of Bulma as his queen. As his life mate.

"Vegeta?"

He blinked a little, before he scowled and looked away. He had been staring blankly at the woman without even realizing it. Without a glance back at her, he turned away completely.

"I am going to train," Vegeta told her, his voice settled and back to normal.

"Oh."

His resolve almost shattered with that one word, filled with so much disappointment. But he needed distance to think. Not too much distance – he wasn't leaving, like he would have done before. No, he was only going outside to the gravity chamber. He had never, ever thought of Bulma in such a way before, and he didn't understand it. He needed to wrap his head around it.

He was slipping on his gym shoes, using the wall as support, when she spoke up, "Will I see you at breakfast?"

Vegeta finished putting his shoes on, before finally nodding. Without a word, he turned and walked out to the balcony, sliding the door closed behind him. Bulma watched him, and then sighed. She shifted over in the bed to his side, settling herself against his pillow. She yawned as she closed her eyes. Sleep came easily to her.

Not so for the prince below. He didn't engage the gravity simulator as he sat down against the control panel. He brushed away his troubling dreams, telling himself it was because of his discipline and not Bulma's comfort that he did so easily. Sitting cross-legged, he reached up with one hand to cover his face as he contemplated having Bulma Briefs as the equivalent of his mate.

One side of him shouted down the idea vehemently; she was human, and Saiyans only mated with Saiyans. But another side of him that he couldn't quite ignore was saying, what would be the difference, really? He was already here on Earth, living with her, sharing a bed with her, raising a son with her. He had more or less already sworn to always protect her. Should he never take a woman as his mate simply because there were no Saiyan females left?

But it would be a huge commitment. An unbreakable commitment…

After about ten minutes of an intense inner back-and-forth with himself, Vegeta finally got back up to his feet. He was at a stalemate with himself, and as such, he decided to just forget about it as he engaged the gravity simulator. He shook his head in exasperation as he dropped down to do a series of warm-up stretches. He couldn't believe he had even given the idea serious thought.

Before he knew it, the sun had risen. He hadn't even noticed the time as it ticked away. His hunger was again what signaled to him that it was time to take a break and go have breakfast.

As soon as he stepped out of the gravity chamber, though, Bulma was practically in his face.

"Oh, good! I was just about to knock!" the heiress said happily. Before Vegeta could say a word, she practically shoved Trunks right into his chest, making the prince awkwardly grab onto his son. "I need to go to the hospital so you have to watch the baby, okay?"

"What?" Vegeta blinked in surprise. Trunks grabbed at his father's face, tugging on it and making the prince growl angrily. He batted the boy's hands away, and then lowered him to the ramp. He then looked up at his son's mother and demanded, "You're going where?"

"To the hospital. Chi-Chi is in labor!" Bulma gushed in excitement. "You know the drill, and I wrote my cell phone number on a note that I taped to the fridge in case you need anything. My mom also left you some hot pancakes. Okay, we have to go now, so I'll see you two later! Oh, I'm so excited!" she cried out, already turning around to run off to her hover jet.

Vegeta caught her by the arm before she could. "Woman, take this boy with you," he ordered.

"I can't, Vegeta, I have no idea how long we're going to be there!"

She went to turn away again, when Vegeta pulled her back again. "Bulma," he growled in warning.

"What? What's wrong?" she asked, frowning in confusion.

"Oh, nothing, except what happened the _last _time you left this brat with me," Vegeta sneered, letting her go as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Bulma's eyes softened in understanding, before she smiled at him. "That's okay. You're older and wiser now," she jokingly told him. Vegeta rolled his eyes, before tensing as Bulma leaned closer to him and gave him a quick kiss on his lips. "You'll be fine. That was an accident. I know you won't let it happen again. I trust you."

Vegeta didn't know what to say to that. He frowned and awkwardly wiped at his lips with the back of his hand. Bulma didn't notice as she leaned down to look at her son who was clinging to his father's leg.

"You be a good boy and listen to your daddy, okay?" she told him, kissing Trunks on his forehead. She stood up and gave Vegeta a flirtatious smile, "I'll see my favorite men later."

The heiress then ran off in excitement, leaving the prince to his fate. Vegeta looked down at Trunks, who looked up at him. Father and son were wearing the same look of confusion. The prince was at a loss. He was hungry and wanted to eat, but did that mean he had to feed the boy too? He also needed a shower. What the hell was he going to do with Trunks while he showered?

"I am going to eat," Vegeta finally informed the toddler, with a tone like he was delivering serious news. "You are _not_ going to interrupt my breakfast-"

"Food!" Trunks yelled. He had eaten breakfast, but he was always up for eating more. "Food, food, food!"

The little boy then jumped onto his father's leg, and attempted to scramble up the prince. He reached up to grab a handful of Vegeta's spandex shorts for leverage to pull himself up. In the process though, his little hands came dangerously close to grabbing a lot more than just spandex. The prince yelped in surprise, before he angrily shoved the boy off him, making Trunks land sitting down.

"Little brat," Vegeta hissed, his face reddening. "DON'T do that again!"

Trunks flinched at the harsh tone. His eyes then filled with tears as he stared up at his father. Vegeta recognized that look, and he knew that the boy would be wailing in approximately four to five seconds. Just as Trunks' face was starting to redden and he was taking in a great lungful of air to start bawling, Vegeta turned away and walked down the ramp of the gravity chamber.

"Come on, boy, let's get some food," the prince grumbled.

Trunks was immediately running after his father when he heard that, his tears forgotten. "Food!"

"Hn."

Moments later, Vegeta was prowling the kitchen for some syrup for his pancakes, ignoring the toddler who was crawling under the table. As far as he was concerned, so long as he could sense Trunks, that was enough. He caught sight of Bulma's cell phone number on the fridge, and he scowled at it.

"Damn woman," he muttered under his breath. He was a prince, not a babysitter, and he was already planning on giving the woman a piece of his mind when she returned later. After all, if she thought that she could just dump their son on him whenever she felt like it, then she had another thing coming-

Vegeta suddenly whirled around when he heard glass shattering. One of the windows in the kitchen was broken, with a round hole through it that looked like a ball. Vegeta's gaze shifted over to his son, who was sitting on the floor and giving him a sheepish look.

"Oopsie!" Trunks giggled, raising his little hands to cover his mouth. "Sahhhh-wee."

Vegeta's eye twitched, before he squatted down. He leaned down close to his son, and evenly told him, "If you do that again, _I_ will send _you _through the window. Understand?"

Trunks gasped. "Twunks, window?"

"Damn right."

"Ohhhh noooo!"

"Oh yes."

"Dada, meanies!" Trunks wailed.

"I know," Vegeta replied, before raising a finger in Trunks' face in warning. "And you will NOT give me any bullshit today, boy, or I will throw you into your cage and leave you there until your mother returns. DON'T try me."

Trunks pouted as Vegeta stood up again. The prince then turned his attention to the pancakes that Bunny had left for him. He gave up on finding the syrup as he sat down to enjoy his breakfast. He took all of two bites before he had Trunks standing up next to him. The boy's little hands were on his thigh as he tried seeing what Vegeta was eating.

"Food?"

Vegeta sighed. He motioned with his chin to the high chair.

"Climb into that contraption, and I might be inclined to give you some."

"No," Trunks whined.

"Well then you aren't getting anything," Vegeta snapped at him.

Trunks then sat down on his diaper, covered his face with his hands, and started crying. Vegeta reached up with one hand to massage his temple, eyeing Bulma's cell phone number out of the corner of his eye. He then looked up at the clock. It hadn't even been twenty minutes since the woman left! He couldn't call her and tell her to come back this soon.

He finally reached down to grab Trunks. He was going to lift him by the back of his shirt out of pure instincts, when he winced. The mental image of Frieza lifting the boy that way was still very fresh in his mind. Vegeta sighed and pulled up Trunks by the arm so he was standing, and then put his arm around the boy, easily lifting him up and sitting the toddler on the table right next to his plate.

"Oooh!" Trunks cried out in excitement, clapping his hands as his tears were forgotten. "Food peese!"

"Alright. You can have ONE pancake," Vegeta said, neatly setting aside one pancake on the edge of his plate close to Trunks.

"One?"

"One."

"Two?" the little boy asked, throwing up two fingers into his father's face.

"This is not a negotiation," Vegeta growled, batting Trunks' hand away. "One, not two."

Trunks then excitedly started counting all the pancakes, "One, two, twee, fo-"

Vegeta closed his eyes and mentally counted to ten to calm down before he blasted the boy right off the table. A muscle in his jaw was twitching in his agitation as he reached up to massage his forehead.

The prince suddenly lowered his hand and looked back at his son when Trunks put both hands on either side of his father's head. The little boy smiled brightly at him, before he leaned forward and hugged him around his head. Vegeta blinked in surprise, taken aback by the gesture. He grunted as Trunks buried his face into his hair.

"Sentimental, just like your mother," the prince grumbled, though he made no immediate move to draw away.

"Mama?"

"Hn."

Vegeta awkwardly pulled Trunks off him after a moment, shaking his head as he did. His anger now greatly tempered, he tapped the edge of his plate to draw Trunks' attention away from him. Trunks smiled in excitement as he turned and started digging into his father's plate with his bare hands. He wound up eating more than one pancake, but the prince didn't object. They ate in silence, with Trunks focused on his additional meal, and Vegeta focused on him.

Maybe the day wouldn't be so long after all.

* * *

"Oh my goodness, he is _adorable!_" Bulma gushed, looking at the newborn baby through the glass window later that day.

"Man, look at that hair," Yamcha whistled. "That's definitely Goku's kid, alright."

"Yeah, no kidding!" Bulma said, before glancing over at the boy standing next to her who looked enraptured by the sleeping bundle beyond the glass. "Well, what's it like to be a big brother, Gohan?"

"It's pretty neat." Gohan said, smiling at his little brother. "_Goten_," he said, sounding out the name for the first time. "Gosh, he looks just like my dad…strong like him, too. You can already feel it."

"He's not the only one I can feel right now," Yamcha remarked, drawing Gohan and Bulma's attention. He looked off to the side, "Vegeta's here."

Bulma checked her watch, and gasped when she saw how much time had passed. "Oh, wow. Yeah, small wonder he's here. It's almost time for dinner."

"Damn right it is," Vegeta growled as he rounded the corner.

The prince had Trunks' diaper bag slung over his shoulder, and an absolutely exhausted toddler slung on his other shoulder. Vegeta had allowed the boy to play to his heart's content all day long – in the gravity simulator, with the gravity engaged at twenty times Earth's gravity. His intention had been to wear the boy out so he would fall asleep early, and his plan had worked perfectly – but what he hadn't counted on was having to change the boy's diaper. He hadn't even bothered trying. That was the reason why he was there, so Bulma could handle it.

Vegeta walked over to his son's mother and gave her the diaper bag, and then handed her a barely awake Trunks. "Here, woman, take your brat back. He is filthy."

"What?" Bulma asked, taking her son gently into her arms. She gave Vegeta an incredulous look. "You mean to tell me that he's been dirty all day?"

The prince rolled his eyes. "Yes, because I would allow my son to stink all day long," he sneered at her. "No, this is recent. That's why I brought him here."

"Alright, I'll be back," Bulma said, slinging Trunks' bag over her shoulder as she headed off to get him cleaned up.

Vegeta watched her, before scanning over Gohan and Yamcha with indifference. They both gave him short waves as he crossed his arms. He followed their eyesight as they turned to look back through the glass. His curiosity piqued, he stepped closer to take a look himself. His upper lip instinctively curled in disgust when he saw that familiar hairstyle.

"So that's the second spawn," he remarked dryly. Yamcha rolled his eyes as Gohan chuckled.

"That's him. His name is Goten."

"Hn. Where is his tail?"

"They already had it taken off."

Vegeta couldn't help his sigh of disappointment at that, before frowning when he picked up on the baby's ki. It was already high for his age. He shook his head in amazement as he wondered just what was up with this new generation.

He didn't notice that he was staring intensely at the boy until he heard Krillin's voice. He looked over and scowled at the sight of him walking in with balloons that read "Congratulations!" Not far behind him was Android 18. Vegeta briefly made eye contact with her, before he turned around and walked away from all of them as they all greeted each other happily. One day, he was going to get that android back for breaking his arm. But that day wasn't today.

He didn't know why he didn't turn around and leave the hospital altogether. Instead, he sought out Bulma and Trunks, eventually tracking them down in one of the patient rooms. He strolled in without knocking, and he blinked at the sight of Chi-Chi there with them.

"Vegeta," Bulma said, slightly caught off guard that he was even still there. She then smiled at him, "Did you see Goten?"

"Unfortunately."

"Isn't he cute?"

Vegeta frowned. "He looks just like his idiot father, so _no, _he is not _cute_," he sneered in disgust.

Bulma rolled her eyes, before slowly standing up from where she had been sitting. Trunks was changed and dressed in his pajamas, sound asleep against Bulma's shoulder. Vegeta shifted his gaze over to Chi-Chi, who was asleep.

"Is she dead?" he bluntly asked.

"No!" Bulma hissed, glaring at him. "Don't be an ass, Vegeta."

He looked back at her, his eyes narrowing. "It was a legitimate question. Her ki is practically non-existent. I didn't even realize there was someone else in the room with you two. Besides," he added, looking back at the woman who looked exhausted. "It wasn't uncommon for a woman to die giving birth to a Saiyan."

"Oh…well, no, she's fine, just tired. I just wanted to make sure she was alright, that's all."

"Hn." He was silent for a while, regarding Chi-Chi. "It took a _lot_ out of her," he commented.

"I know."

He gave Bulma a sideways glance. "Was it like this for you?"

Bulma tried to keep the surprise out of her features as she looked back at him. She rubbed Trunks' back soothingly for a few seconds, before admitting, "It was harder for me. Chi-Chi had already been there, done that with Gohan. She knew what to expect. She tried to help me, but it was different for me. There were days I thought for sure that Trunks was going to break me in half."

Vegeta said nothing as he looked at her. He knew how strong his son was, and knew the kind of potential Trunks had. He couldn't help but feel impressed by the woman standing in front of him as he finally understood why she had harped over the birth control. He didn't imagine that giving birth to a Saiyan hybrid was worse than a full-blooded Saiyan, but he was certain it was more challenging than bearing a human child.

Bulma was trying to awkwardly reach down for Trunks' diaper bag while carrying the boy at the same time, when Vegeta reached down and picked it up. He slung it over his shoulder, giving Bulma one last lingering look filled with new respect, before he turned away to face the door.

"It appears you are stronger than I thought, woman."

Bulma smiled. She walked past him, letting her fingertips trail along his back when she did. "I can hold my own," she told him, her tone smug.

Vegeta smirked a little, before following her out of the room. _Yes, you can, _he silently agreed.

He hung back, away from everyone as Bulma congratulated Krillin on his engagement. Vegeta frowned as he watched them all mingle together. By this time, Tien and Chiaotzu had shown up, and Piccolo had also arrived. The Namekian was trying to look inconspicuous so he wouldn't stand out too much, but he was failing. The Saiyan prince snorted in amusement at that. By the time everyone's focus shifted from Goten's birth to Krillin's engagement, Vegeta rolled his eyes and moved over by the glass so he could get a good look at the new kid. He tilted his head, and wondered just how strong this one was going to be. Well - surely not stronger than Trunks, he mused arrogantly.

"Oh my gosh, what a gorgeous ring!" Bulma gushed, drawing Vegeta's attention.

"It's decent," Android 18 said, shrugging a little. Vegeta frowned at that. _Metal bitch is stealing my line. _

Bulma laughed, and his attention was diverted to her. As though feeling his eyes on her, the heiress glanced his way. She smiled at him, but it wasn't her real smile. It was a little strained; a very subtle difference, but he noticed. He wondered what was wrong, until she looked back at the android bride to be, and at her engagement ring.

Vegeta felt deflated as realization finally dawned on him. _She wants to get married. Of course. _He turned back to the glass, looking back at Goten so he wouldn't have to make eye contact with her again. He sighed, raising his eyes to his barely visible reflection.

Bulma finally walked back over to him almost fifteen minutes later. She put a hand on his lower back, and he turned his head a little in acknowledgement.

"You okay?" she asked, frowning a little. Not that she was going to complain over the fact that he had stuck around and not taken off by now, but it just wasn't like him.

Vegeta nodded, looking ahead again. "Can we go now, or are you not done socializing with these fools yet?"

"You were waiting for me?" Bulma asked in surprise.

"I certainly wasn't staying here for the charming company," he sneered. "Besides, you have my son. The boy needs to rest, away from all this."

"Yeah, I know," she chuckled a little. She was still carrying Trunks, but the boy hadn't flinched since she'd changed him. "You wore him down, huh?"

"Hn."

"Alright, let me just say goodbye to everyone and we'll go."

"Fine."

She noticed that Vegeta was unusually quiet on the ride back to Capsule Corp. She tried to draw him into conversation, but he was giving her very clipped answers as he kept his gaze out the window. Finally, she figured that maybe it was because he wanted to be quiet because Trunks was sound asleep in his car seat in the back. But Trunks was a heavy sleeper, so that couldn't be it.

Vegeta was practically out of the hover jet almost as soon as it touched down. He disappeared into the compound without a word as Bulma sighed. She got Trunks out and took him to his crib, before predictably finding the prince again in the kitchen, sitting down for dinner with her parents.

She joined them, and filled in her mother with all the details over Goten. Dr. Briefs stayed quiet, subtly watching Vegeta. The Saiyan was eating slower than usual, and he was staring intensely at Bulma whenever the heiress wasn't looking at him. Finally, Vegeta felt the scientist watching him, and he sent a mean glare Dr. Briefs' way. The prince then abruptly got up, mumbled something about going to train, and disappeared.

When midnight came and went and Vegeta still hadn't shown up in their bedroom for sleep, Bulma finally started wondering what was wrong. Yes, he had pushed himself to insane limits before the androids arrived, but they had fallen into something of a routine over the last month. Vegeta was a creature of habit, and while he adjusted things when necessary, it usually put him in a worse mood than normal. And the routine lately had been that they were both in bed, together, by midnight (though they were doing anything but sleeping).

Just as she was wondering if she had inadvertently said something to upset him, Vegeta walked in through the balcony screen door. He closed it behind him, and started taking off his shoes.

"Alright. What's wrong?" Bulma demanded, sitting up in bed.

Vegeta didn't even look up. "Nothing."

"Oh, don't give me that," she told him, rolling her eyes. "Something's up, and I want to know what."

He kicked off his shoes. "I'm going to take a shower."

He was walking over to do just that when Bulma was suddenly in front of him. Vegeta stopped and frowned at her. This woman…

"Seriously, Vegeta, what is it?" she pressed him.

The prince reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. Nothing was wrong, which was perhaps the problem. He enjoyed this. Where they were. What they had. It was enough without being suffocating or binding. It satisfied him. There was no commitment. He could wake up tomorrow, put on his Saiyan armor, and leave this planet forever. He wouldn't like it, but he could do it. The problem was that she wanted more, just like he had once thought.

What he hadn't counted on, though, was that perhaps he had grown into wanting more too.

But he wasn't ready. He wasn't sure he was ever going to be ready, if he was being honest with himself.

He looked Bulma in the eyes for a few seconds. It wasn't often that he wasn't honest with this woman, but right now, he didn't want to tell her what was truly on his mind. And so, he moved to another topic that was relevant enough not to draw further suspicion.

"Just been trying to think of a way to get rid of these blasted nightmares," he grumbled.

"Oh," Bulma said with understanding. "Well, do you want to talk about it? Is it something that you keep seeing?"

Very quickly, Vegeta realized that he didn't want to talk about this either. He sidestepped her, "I have to take a shower."

"Hey, Vegeta, wait," Bulma said, but he disappeared into the bathroom before she could say anything else. She sighed, before getting back into bed as she heard the shower start.

She was dozing by the time Vegeta finally got into bed with her, getting under the covers. He laid down on his back next to her, crossing his arms under his head. They stayed in a comfortable silence for a while, until he finally closed his eyes and sighed.

"Sometimes, I see Frieza," he quietly admitted. Bulma looked over at him, now fully awake. "But most of the time, I see you and Trunks."

Bulma winced. He didn't continue, but he didn't need to. She slowly got closer to him, until she wrapped her arm around him and rested her head on his chest. He didn't move, but he did relax a little at the contact.

"Is there anything that could help?"

"Why? You regret sharing a bed now with a psychopathic murderer with sleeping problems?" he joked morbidly.

She pinched him a little. "Don't say that. I don't mind…though the light shows are a little worrisome sometimes, I admit."

Vegeta scowled at that. "Light shows?"

"Sometimes, your hands light up, you know."

"Hn. Only _you_ would be more afraid of my ki when I'm sleeping than when I'm standing in front of you, aiming it right at you," he snorted, unable to keep his amusement out of his voice.

"Well, what would _you_ do if my hands lit up in my sleep?"

"Kill you, since you would clearly be a threat."

"Oh, well that's just great."

Vegeta chuckled, lowering one arm and lightly running his fingers down her back. He snaked his hand underneath her tank top, exploring the skin underneath by touch alone. In response, Bulma started drawing lazy circles on his chest.

"I won't kill you, woman. After all, you aren't leaving me alone with that demon seed you call a son."

"He gets the demon side of him from _you_."

"Don't be so modest now."

Bulma drew up from him, pulling up his hand. She pinned his hands down as she straddled him, looking down at his maddening smirk.

"You are so difficult sometimes," she huffed. Vegeta licked his lips, loving the way she was trying to assert herself physically over him. As if she could ever fight him in this regard. But he loved that she always tried. He took in the way her hair fell around her as she continued, "It's like, every time I try to really talk to you, you shut down and I have to wait like, however long, to finally get you to open up to me-"

"Impatient wench."

"Oh, please! You are way more impatient than me. If you wanted me to tell you something, you'd want me to tell you right that instant-"

"Your point?"

"Well, it goes both ways!"

"Hn," he grunted as Bulma shifted on him, zoning out as the movement made him start to get hard. They hadn't done anything intimate all day, and his body was reminding him of that fact with every second that passed.

"I'll listen to you, no matter what," Bulma was saying when he tuned back into what she was saying. She let go of his hands, moving her hands down to his shoulders.

"Fine, but I'm done talking," Vegeta's voice rumbled, as he bucked his hips against her in demand. "Now, either get off, or get to work."

Bulma leaned down so she was right in his face, her blue eyes challenging. "I am not your sex slave, Vegeta."

Vegeta glared at her. She was being so goddamned defiant, but he could smell that she wanted him too. But damn if he didn't love the way she always challenged him. He reached up to her and brushed her hair aside.

"I know."

That was good enough for her as Bulma leaned down to kiss him. Vegeta put his arms around her, eagerly returning her kiss as his hands pushed her tank top up. It felt so perfect, feeling her on him like this, having her kissing him and touching him like this. In that moment, he knew he was only fooling himself – he wasn't going to leave her anytime soon. Still, it didn't mean he was ready to commit to her for the long run.

But, maybe he could warm up to the idea.


	12. New light

When Vegeta casually strolled into the kitchen one morning, with a rare smile on his face, it was hard not to notice.

"Good morning, Vegeta!" Bunny brightly greeted him, handing him his usual morning cup of coffee. "You seem in a good mood today?"

"Hn."

The prince's smile quickly vanished, but he couldn't quite keep the look of content off his face as he took the cup from her. Without returning her greeting, Vegeta sat down at the table where Bunny had already laid out a breakfast feast for him. One of the reasons why he tolerated Bulma's mother was because of things like this. She was perhaps the only one on the planet who treated him like the royalty he was.

He was about halfway through his breakfast when Bulma slowly walked in, carrying Trunks on her hip. Limped in, was perhaps a better way of describing it. The heiress was wincing as she slowly put Trunks in his high chair, when her mother noticed her discomfort.

"Oh dear, are you alright?" Bunny asked worriedly, completely missing the wicked smirk on Vegeta's face as he raised his cup of coffee behind her. "Did you hurt yourself?"

"No, not exactly," Bulma answered, shooting the prince in the kitchen a malicious glare. "Just sore from working out, that's all. It'll pass."

"Oh, I have the perfect medicine you could take that will make you feel good as new!" Bunny happily informed her daughter. "I'll go get it."

Bulma strapped Trunks in while Bunny went to do just that, and the only sound in the kitchen was Trunks spelling out the letters that wrote out "Capsule Corp" on Bulma's tank top. Vegeta picked up a piece of toast and started crunching on it, and the sound was maddeningly loud to Bulma. He could usually finish his toast in about two bites, but today, he was taking small bites as he crunched away.

She lasted all of ten seconds before she spun around to face him and angrily demanded, "Will you stop that already!"

"Stop what?" Vegeta innocently asked. "I am just eating the breakfast your mother prepared…besides, I thought you were never speaking to me again," he mockingly added.

"I hate you."

"You love me one day, you hate me the next. I always suspected you were bipolar. Looks like I was right – as usual." He snorted in amusement and added under his breath, "_Working out. _Hn. That's one way to put it."

Vegeta reached for another piece of toast, when it was snatched away before he could grab it. He scowled at Bulma as she handed it over to Trunks, who immediately started devouring it. Bulma then put her hands on the table and leaned forward, staring Vegeta right in the eye.

"Krillin's wedding is tomorrow, and I _know _that you know that, you jackass. How am I supposed to go when I can barely walk? What am I supposed to tell them?" Bulma demanded, trying hard not to start yelling at him. It was difficult when he was wearing that smug, arrogant, and infuriating look on his face.

"The truth. They'll understand," Vegeta nonchalantly answered, trying hard to sound indifferent. But the amusement was dancing in his eyes as he continued, "Besides. This isn't my fault."

"What do you mean this isn't your fault!" Bulma yelled, forgetting for the moment that she didn't want her parents to overhear.

"It isn't. You made a challenge, and I responded. Don't blame me if you were too weak to handle it."

"I didn't-!" Bulma started to yell, before lowering her voice, "I didn't ask you to go _Super Saiyan-"_

"Hn," Vegeta grunted, picking up his utensils and looking back down at his breakfast. He shrugged, but the smirk was creeping up on his face and he couldn't stop it. "I don't know what you were expecting, woman. I believe your exact words were: _Is that all you've got? _Well, little female, looks like you got your answer."

"Vegeta, you have to give a girl a little warning before you increase your strength and speed twenty times over-!"

"Fifty times over," he smugly corrected. "And need I remind you that you weren't complaining last night?"

Bulma struggled to keep her place in this argument, but he was right. Last night was hands down their best night together in the sheets. The sex was raw and animalistic, with a degree of intensity that only Vegeta could provide with his Super Saiyan transformation. But that didn't mean she wanted to waddle into her friend's wedding tomorrow, fielding questions on what was wrong with her.

"What am I supposed to tell them tomorrow at the wedding?" Bulma finally repeated in defeat, slowly sitting down next to him to get something to eat as well. She pulled over Trunks' high chair to feed him while Vegeta shrugged.

"You had Super Saiyan sex. They'll understand, and perhaps the other females will even be envious. Which is perfectly understandable."

"Yes, let me go brag about my sex life during my friend's wedding, that would be really classy, Vegeta. I wonder how long I would last before 18 killed me?" Bulma asked, rolling her eyes while she gave Trunks a bowl with scrambled eggs. The little boy glared at the bowl, before pointing to the pancakes that Vegeta was eating. "Ugh, you're just like your father," she grumbled.

"Hn. Scarface will protect you," Vegeta bitterly sneered. "You know he would die for the opportunity to be a knight in shining armor…literally."

"Maybe you should come with me so you could protect me then?"

"Are you kidding?" the prince snorted. He frowned as Bulma removed some pancakes and toast from his plate to give to Trunks. "I wouldn't save you. After all, I would love to see Baldy's face if his toaster slaughtered one of his friends. That would be priceless."

"Are you seriously not going to come to Krillin's wedding?" Bulma genuinely asked as they made eye contact.

"Woman, we have discussed this already. I'm not going, and you won't change my mind."

"Well, you should at least think about it. They invited the entire family, you know."

"_Your_ entire family," Vegeta corrected.

"Which includes _you_ now."

Vegeta said nothing to that, letting his gaze linger on the woman next to him as she turned to feed his son. Thinking of himself as a loner was still deeply ingrained in him, and it would take more than some peaceful months to change that mentality. Hell, part of him still half-expected Bulma to wake up one morning, realize just who she was sharing a bed with, and then kick him out for good.

He looked away when her parents walked back in, going back to eating his breakfast. Before he knew it, Bunny and Dr. Briefs had joined them in their meal. Vegeta was silent as they all talked about Krillin's wedding. Who was going to wear what, what gifts they were going to buy, on and on and on. He wasn't the one getting married, and he was already sick of hearing about it.

Finally, he had enough, and he stood up to leave. Before he could make his escape though, Bulma caught his arm.

"Hey, before you go, I just got this text message from Yamcha-" Vegeta went to walk away again, when Bulma's grip tightened on his arm, "Would you wait for me to finish please? My goodness, you're so impatient." He glared at her as she continued, "He says they're throwing a bachelor's party tonight for Krillin, and you can come if you want."

_It must be some type of plot to kill me, _Vegeta thought, his suspicions instantly rising. He pulled his arm free.

"I know you are not suggesting I actually attend, right?" he asked, eyeing Bulma carefully. The woman was insane, but she couldn't think he would actually lower himself to such a degree, could she?

"Why not? Do you even know what a bachelor party is?"

"It has the word _party_ in it. That is all I need to know."

"Oh come on, go out, have some fun! I think it'll be good for you."

"Good thing I don't care what you think," Vegeta sneered, before turning around and walking away.

Bulma rolled her eyes as he went out into the backyard. She needed another degree to deal with that man.

* * *

Hours later, Vegeta was in the only other place besides the gravity room where he could get some real privacy: the Capsule Corp swimming pool. It was open to the company, but whenever he decided to use it, everyone else quickly vacated. If Bulma's employees were scared of Vegeta before, they were downright terrified of him now after hearing what happened months ago with Richard at the restaurant. Unfortunately for them, the prince never made any attempts to ease their terror. If anything, he purposely made it worse. At least some people on the damn planet still feared for their lives whenever he was present.

He was doing his laps when he sensed Bulma coming over with Trunks. Vegeta continued on uninterrupted, taking a deep breath before diving under the water when Bulma came out into the pool area. He figured she would get the hint that he didn't want to deal with her right now.

It probably would've worked, if Bulma didn't adjust the temperature in the pool from cool to barely above freezing in under two seconds. Vegeta quickly broke the surface of the water, gasping from the sudden change in temperature as he leaned his forearms on the edge of the pool. He looked up and saw Bulma wearing a satisfied smirk on her face.

"Bitch," he grumbled, wiping the water off his face.

"Well I had to get your attention somehow. Now listen, I have to get some work done before the wedding tomorrow, and my mom is buying our gift, so I need you to watch the baby for about an hour."

Without waiting for Vegeta's response, Bulma lowered Trunks and sat the little boy down right in front of his father. The prince frowned in disgust when he saw the horrid swimming trunks his son was wearing.

"Woman, what the fuck have you put on my son now?" he angrily demanded, looking at the little smiling bears plastered all over the boy's swim gear.

"Aw, they're cute! Trunks likes Winnie the Pooh," Bulma happily informed him. Vegeta slowly blinked, at a rare loss for words. His son, the heir to his throne, wearing such garbage. It was beyond shameful.

_Well, at least it's not pink, _he reasoned bitterly. He growled when Trunks leaned towards him and grabbed a handful of his wet hair, quickly swatting the boy's hands away before he could yank.

"Baby, don't pull Daddy's hair," Bulma jokingly chastised, a teasing glint in her eyes. "After all, only Mommy's allowed to do that."

Vegeta gave her a dark glare, "We'll see just who is pulling whose hair tonight."

"That'll be no one. I need time to recover from last night. I'm pretty awesome, but I _am_ human."

"Don't remind me."

"Anyways, I'll come get him in an hour. Oh, and here. You can put Trunks in this."

"What…?" Vegeta started, blinking at the yellow monstrosity that Bulma was holding, which he hadn't noticed until now. There was a large duck head at the end, smiling in a goofy way that reminded him of Kakarot. His lip twitched in disgust. That thing wasn't going to get anywhere near him or his son, not if he could help it. "Woman, I don't know what the hell that is, but if you bring it closer, I will blast it to bits."

"It's an inflatable duck baby seat! Isn't it adorable? My mom bought it for him a year ago, but he just recently grew into it. It's just until Trunks gets more comfortable and can learn how to swim-"

"See, this is why the boy barely knows how to do anything. You give him these absurd toys and gadgets that only handicap his development."

Vegeta was too busy brushing the wet hair out of his face to stop Bulma from whacking him hard on the head with the inflatable duck. His eyes widened in shock as Trunks laughed out loud.

"Trunks isn't even two years old, you jerk! Now just let him splash around in the duck, or if it disgusts you so much, why don't you do something instead of complaining and teach your son how to swim!"

Vegeta snatched the duck out of her hand, and threw it over his shoulder. It cleared the pool completely and landed against the opposite wall by the men's locker room. "There. Now leave the boy and get lost. Your voice is going to give me a damn headache."

"That's what I thought," Bulma knowingly said, already adjusting the water temperature so it was warm for Trunks. "I'll come get him in an hour."

"Hn."

Vegeta easily lifted himself out of the water, sitting next to Trunks as Bulma slowly walked away. The prince looked over his shoulder and snorted in amusement at how the woman was waddling. She looked like she was ninety years old. His attention was diverted back to his son when Trunks started climbing all over him. The little boy finally stood on Vegeta's thighs, grabbing onto his shoulders for balance.

"Now look here, boy," Vegeta started, roughly shoving Trunks off him to the side. Trunks landed sitting down and pouted as his father continued, "It's time you learn how to swim. After all, a warrior cannot survive for long if the easiest way to kill him is to throw him in the water. Of course, a natural defense mechanism is simply to fly out of the water, but you can't even do that yet. So swimming is an essential skill for your survival. Understand?"

"Swim, swim, swim," Trunks chanted happily as Vegeta got up to his feet. The prince scooped the boy up with one arm as Trunks pointed to his duck. "Duckie?"

"No."

"Duckie!" Trunks whined.

"I said no, brat. You have to learn how to swim without that stupid device. Now, it's quite simple. Just kick. That's all there is to it. Are you ready? I hope you are."

Without waiting for a response, Vegeta tossed Trunks into the deep end of the pool. The little boy immediately started to sink. Vegeta waited a second to see if he would start to swim, but when it was apparent that the boy was more likely to die than start to swim, he dove into the water.

A split second later, father and son emerged from the water. Trunks was clinging to Vegeta for dear life, his face bright red as he coughed and hacked away. Vegeta patted him on the back, cursing under his breath while he did. It was a good thing the boy hadn't fully developed his vocabulary and couldn't tell Bulma about this.

As soon as Trunks was finally able to breathe, he drew in a deep breath, and started bawling his eyes out. Vegeta sighed as Trunks buried his face into his chest. What he would give to just fast-forward time so his son could be older to properly train. He was just not equipped to deal with an infant child and was quickly at a loss on what to do. Until his gaze settled on the inflatable duck, that is.

Twenty minutes later, Trunks was happily floating in his inflatable duck, his earlier trauma already forgotten. Vegeta was doing his usual laps, every now and then sparing the boy a glance, but his mind was clouded with thoughts about marriage. It was tough to avoid thinking about it when that's all anyone was talking about these days, with Krillin's wedding being tomorrow and all.

It just boggled his mind that the small warrior was actually marrying the android. The same android that had killed all of them in the future and ruined Trunks' life. He didn't understand how Krillin could look past that any more than he understood Bulma's feelings for him. What if the android did get pissed at him? She could kill the stupid weakling. Not that he cared, he just didn't understand why Krillin was taking such a risk. He was almost tempted to show up to the wedding just to see if Krillin was actually going to go through with it. Almost.

He lost all track of time until Bunny came into the pool area. She had barely stepped foot into the pool area before Vegeta already had Trunks out of the pool, still in his inflatable duck. The prince lightly shoved the boy forward towards his grandmother. With Trunks out, he could finally increase the water density and drop the temperature again to get a decent workout.

"Gramma!" Trunks shouted happily, already going over to Bunny so she could pick him up.

"Hi Trunks! Did you have fun?"

"Yeah!"

Vegeta rolled his eyes, before demanding, "Where's Bulma?"

"She's doing some yoga to feel better tomorrow," she said, taking Trunks out of the duck and wrapping a towel around him.

_Yoga? What the hell is that? _Vegeta wondered, frowning in confusion. It sounded kind of violent. He didn't ask though, reaching over instead to adjust the pool settings.

"Don't be late for dinner, Vegeta!"

The prince didn't answer, going back under the water to finally resume his workout at his regular level.

About an hour later, Bulma was still trying to rid some of her soreness. It had gotten much worse since that morning, and no painkillers had helped. And as much as she wanted to curse Vegeta, last night had been worth it. All she could do now was try to make things better. Now she was in the bedroom she shared with him, trying her best to stretch out like the woman on the yoga instruction video. She had to try if she actually wanted to get out of bed tomorrow.

"There. Just like that," the polite instruction lady said, doing a demonstration of some insane twist of the body that didn't seem natural to Bulma at all. "See? That's not so hard, right?"

"Fuck you, in shape yoga lady," Bulma grumbled under her breath, unable to even lower her hands down to her mat. Her body was absolutely refusing to cooperate. She winced, and then widened her stance to get down easier.

Vegeta was walking in at that exact moment, when he stopped at the sight that welcomed him. Bulma was wearing indecent shorts and a sports bra, and he had a fantastic view of her from behind. His eyes scanned her over hungrily. Her body wasn't the reason he had entered this relationship with her, but it certainly didn't hurt things either. The prince crossed his arms, forgetting that he had only come in to shower for dinner. Instead, he leaned his shoulder against the doorframe and watched the impromptu show he was getting while Bulma continued her exercises.

"Twenty-nine…thirty," Bulma said a few minutes later, sighing in relief when she released her current position, oblivious of the Saiyan behind her. She glanced up at the TV to continue following along. "Okay…shoulder-length apart…bend over to the side…"

She jumped in surprise when a strong arm wrapped around her waist from behind, before she was pulled back against a firm chest.

"You are failing miserably in your attempts to copy that woman on the television set," Vegeta whispered in her ear, amusement clear in his voice.

"It's your fault that I can't copy her exactly, you ass," Bulma told him, losing her breath a little when he started kissing her neck. "How long were you watching me?"

"Long enough," he answered, his breath hot on her skin.

"Vegeta, I can't…"

"The only way to get over the soreness is to keep practicing," he chuckled, using his free hand to explore her stomach. His fingers lightly ghosted over her exposed skin, and he smiled when she shuddered in his hold. "Don't worry, I won't transform this time."

"Vegeta," Bulma sighed, half in frustration and half in desire. "You reek of chlorine."

"Take a shower with me then," Vegeta countered, his voice husky with promised sex. Bulma could feel how aroused he was through his swimming trunks as he pressed himself against her, and her body was begging her mind to give in. Everything about him felt so damn _good, _from his hot skin against her back, to the rush of his breath when he spoke, to his wonderful hands.

When he simultaneously slipped one hand underneath her sports bra and his other hand down the front of her shorts, Bulma lost her resolve altogether. She could practically feel his smirk against her skin as she leaned her head back to grant him better access. Vegeta took her invitation, hungrily exploring her with his touch and his tongue.

They were both breathing heavily, the yoga instructor on the TV completely forgotten as Bulma whimpered in pleasure. He kept his breath right behind her ear, knowing from experience now that it gave her chills. Soon, he had her writhing in his hold. Being particularly impatient today, he quickly withdrew his hands, and before Bulma knew it, she was tossed on the bed. Vegeta joined her, immediately settling himself on top of her and between her legs.

He was going to remove her bra to free her fantastic breasts, when Bulma winced in pain.

"Wait, stop," she told him, putting her hands on his shoulders to push him away. Vegeta pulled up, slightly out of breath. "I can't."

"I'll make it fast so you don't miss dinner," he promised, thinking that was the reason she was turning him down. Without waiting for a response, he lowered himself on her again, but Bulma tried pushing him away again.

"Vegeta, I'm serious! I'm hurting all over. If we do this, I won't be able to walk at all tomorrow, and I can't miss Krillin's wedding. I can't do this with you, not tonight."

Vegeta closed his eyes. Bulma was expecting him to withdraw from her completely since she had just turned him down. Instead, he rested his head just under her chin, staying on top of her as he sighed in defeat. Bulma smiled a little, lightly running her fingers up and down his bare back. He wasn't inclined to move, and she wasn't inclined to make him move.

Finally after a few minutes of silence, she sighed and said, "I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you, sweetheart."

Vegeta opened his eyes in surprise. He was slightly caught off by the term of endearment that she hadn't called him before, but that didn't compare to her thinking she owed him something. Especially when it really _was _his fault that she was feeling so sore. Her sudden reversal in this stance made him feel guilty for the first time, and he had no idea why. He hadn't felt guilty earlier.

He raised his head and looked down at her. She smiled at him, and he would have probably given her whatever she asked of him in this moment. He frowned at his own train of thought, before withdrawing from her completely.

"You better," he gruffly answered, going over to retrieve a towel for a quick shower.

Bulma was slow to sit up, and by the time she did, the door was already closing behind him. She sighed, wanting to take a shower as well, but deciding not to make things worse on him by joining him. She did some light stretches, but she had only worked through three when Vegeta came out again. While she got ready to take a shower, he got dressed, which she didn't question until he dug in the closet to find his leather jacket.

"Where are you going?"

"Out," he responded, slipping his jacket on with his back to her.

"I see that," Bulma said, eyeing him up and down as he sat down on the bed to put his black boots on. "Well, how long are you going to be gone?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes as he tied up the laces on his boots. Once upon a time, he would have snapped at her that it was none of her damn business where he went or what he did. Which, it truthfully wasn't. But he remembered their conversation months ago about him up and leaving, so he answered.

"Not long. So be a good and obedient female, and keep my dinner hot."

"Oh,_ of course_, Prince Vegeta. I'll make sure to keep your dinner hot…and poisoned," Bulma added, with a tone like she was actually serious.

Vegeta smirked as Bulma went into the bathroom to take her own shower, closing the door behind her. He shook his head as he finished tying up his boots. She was such a spitfire. But he loved it.

Finally, he stood up and walked out onto the balcony. He closed his eyes and focused, stretching out his senses to pick up the ki signatures he now knew well. Gohan's came up first, with Piccolo's coming up immediately afterwards. They were together. He focused a little more, and then the others came up. As he suspected, they were all together. Krillin and Yamcha in particular stood out, but they were with all the other misfits.

Vegeta sighed and cracked his neck. He couldn't believe he was going to do this, but he was. His blue ki flared up around him, and then he took off in Krillin's direction.

* * *

"I can't believe you're actually getting MARRIED tomorrow!" a more-than-slightly buzzed Yamcha told Krillin.

"Yup," Krillin said, nodding with a hint of a smile as he closed his eyes. "I'm tying the knot. Krillin is officially _off_ the market."

"Not that you were ever on the market," Roshi joked, coming up behind them and putting a large pitcher of beer on their table which was overflowing with food and drinks.

"Oh, come on," Krillin almost whined as everyone laughed. "I dated Maron…"

"That girl was dumb as rocks," Tien said, rolling all three eyes. "Yamcha told me that she was only good on the eyes."

Roshi adjusted his shades as he cackled, "It's true, she was!"

"Well, that's all in the past," Krillin said, waving his hand as though waving away the bad memories. "This time, I got me a good one."

"Are you sure about that?" a gruff voice demanded from behind him.

The music in the establishment might have kept playing, but the needle scratched off the record at the table as everyone turned to look at Vegeta. He rolled his eyes when they stared at him in shock and a little unease.

He had actually been there for about ten minutes, thoroughly scoping the place out. He didn't know what a bachelor party was, but it didn't take long to figure it out. There were some women dancing on a stage, and Vegeta had been briefly surprised to see how little clothing they were wearing. They all had great bodies, but he didn't pay them any attention. Their appeal was next to nothing in comparison to the woman he had, who brought more to the table than just a good figure. A hell of a lot more.

Vegeta sneered at the Earthlings, not even bothering to hide his disgust for them. That they hadn't noticed him was more proof to the Saiyan prince that they were all inferior warriors in comparison to him. He could have snuck up on them and killed them all, and no one would have been the wiser.

"Vegeta!" Krillin finally said, breaking the awkward silence. He smiled, "I didn't think you were gonna come. I'm glad you did-"

"Save the bullshit, Baldy," Vegeta angrily cut in. "You don't want me here, and I don't want to be here, so let's just make this fast. I want a word with you, outside. _Now._"

With that, the prince turned around and walked out. Everyone blinked in surprise, before Krillin chuckled nervously.

"I'll be right back," he awkwardly excused himself, before standing up and going after Vegeta.

"Come back alive!" Roshi yelled after him. "You don't wanna miss the beginnings of the rounds!"

Krillin stepped outside into the cool air, the music becoming muffled as soon as the door closed behind him. He stepped aside so others could go in, scanning for Vegeta. Finally, he saw him over on the side, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. Krillin swallowed heavily, hoping that this wasn't bad. He had no idea why Vegeta would want to speak to him alone.

_Man, I really hope I don't die before I get married, _he nervously thought, rubbing his hands together to keep them warm. _That would suck. A lot._

"So, what did you need, Vegeta?" Krillin asked as he came up to the prince.

Vegeta didn't even look at him as he answered, "I need a Senzu bean, tonight. You know where to get them, so get me one."

"Oh," Krillin said, blinking in surprise. He looked Vegeta up and down, before remarking, "You don't look like you need one-"

"If you want, I could put Scarface in critical condition, and then you'll be forced to get the damn things," Vegeta snarled threateningly.

Krillin chuckled as he raised his hands, waving them innocently, "No, no. Yajirobe is coming by but he hasn't left yet, so I'll just call him and ask him to bring some. I know he's got some. That sound good?"

"How long?"

"Uh, I don't know. Maybe thirty minutes?"

"Make it twenty."

"Alright…was that all you needed?"

It wasn't. His main purpose was to heal Bulma, not so he could get laid tonight (though that would be a plus), but mostly so she would be fine for tomorrow. He tried to tell himself that it was just so he wouldn't hear her bitching tomorrow, but it was a lie. It wasn't often that he was moved to do something that didn't benefit him directly, but this was one of those times.

Still. If healing Bulma was the main goal, he could have just taken her to Dende. No, Vegeta actually wanted to have a discussion with Krillin about the whole marriage thing on Earth and how it worked. Not that he was actually going to do it; he just wanted to know, just in case. And Krillin was the only one who could really answer those questions for him, aside from maybe Dr. Briefs. But he didn't want to get the old man's hopes up. Piccolo was as foreign to these ideas as him, and Gohan was just a boy. He hated everyone else, so he had no other options.

But now he was wondering if this was the best time, when Krillin was surrounded by all his idiot friends. One slip of the tongue, to Yamcha especially, and it wouldn't take long for Bulma to catch wind of his inquiries. And of everyone, he definitely didn't want to get _her _hopes up.

"Yes," he finally answered. "That's all."

"Alright," Krillin said, eyeing Vegeta carefully. He wasn't convinced, but he sure wasn't going to press the Saiyan on the issue. He wanted to live to get married, after all. "Well, do you want to come in and wait for Yajirobe? It's kinda cold out here."

"I'm fine here."

Krillin hesitated, tempted to take up Vegeta on his offer. But something inside him wouldn't let him, as he sighed.

"Vegeta, just come inside. We've got _tons _of food. Yamcha knows the owner, so drinks and food are all on the house. You don't have to talk to anyone, but just come in and get something to eat."

Vegeta didn't respond, but he was sorely tempted. He hadn't had dinner, and now that the little midget mentioned food, he was suddenly hungry. He subtly shifted his weight, contemplating just how hungry he actually was, when Krillin added, "I'll make sure no one bugs you so you can eat in peace."

Vegeta glanced back at Krillin, before finally nodding. "Twenty minutes," he growled.

"Twenty minutes," Krillin agreed with a nod, before turning and leading the way back inside.

It turned out to be less awkward than everyone expected. Vegeta was there, sitting next to Krillin, but he was completely focused on devouring everything in front of him. Everyone around him was engaged in conversation which he was easily tuning out. It didn't hurt any that the food was excellent. The only person feeling awkward was Tien. He kept his personal feelings to himself though, for Krillin's sake. But to him, Yajirobe couldn't come soon enough.

Vegeta finally started paying a little more attention to the Earthlings when Roshi announced that the drinking games were about to start. He raised an eyebrow in curiosity. The Earthlings were all at least a little bit intoxicated. He wondered how much more they could take.

Roshi suddenly turned to Vegeta and put his arm around the Saiyan's shoulders, much to the complete shock of Vegeta. Before he could wrap his mind around the fact that this fool had the audacity to _touch _him, Roshi excitedly asked him, "So, are you going to join in, Vegeta?"

Yamcha snorted and responded before Vegeta could, "Pfft! Please. He wouldn't last one fucking round."

Vegeta was about to rip Roshi's arm off when his head instantly snapped to Yamcha. His eyes narrowed dangerously. "_What_ did you just say?" he snarled.

"Easy, everyone, let's just take it easy," Krillin chuckled, plucking Roshi's arm off Vegeta. "I told you guys, Vegeta's just waiting for Yajirobe to get here, that's all. He's not going to play."

"Whatever!" Yamcha yelled out, waving a hand at Vegeta dismissively. "He doesn't have the _stomach _to last. Make all the excuses you guys want, but he's a lightweight, and he knows it." Vegeta growled low in his throat, his face reddening. Tien and Krillin both exchanged an alarmed look when they felt the Saiyan's ki start to bristle with his anger, but Yamcha seemed oblivious as he continued, "So go ahead, Vegeta. Leave early. I know you can't take the heat-"

Krillin barely managed to grab Vegeta before the Saiyan lunged across the table at Yamcha. Reminding himself that his killing days were over, Vegeta reined his temper in and sat back down. He shoved Krillin's hands off him, before addressing Yamcha. "I don't know what juvenile drinking games you fools are talking about, but I can guarantee that I've had stronger drinks in space. If you want me to embarrass you in front of your friends, then I accept your challenge. Or are you not man enough to stand by your words?"

"You're on, Vegeta," Yamcha immediately said. He might not beat the Saiyan in a fight, but he could beat anyone in a drinking competition.

Vegeta slipped off his leather jacket and draped it over his chair, before he rotated his head to crack his neck. Krillin eyed him warily; the prince looked like he was preparing for battle. Then again, so did Yamcha and Tien, who were all getting ready.

_Oh man, I hope all these guys actually make it tomorrow, or 18's gonna kill me, _Krillin mused.

"GREAT!" Roshi cackled. "Alright boys! The rules are simple. Whoever can put down the most shots without getting sick, wins!"

_Shots? _Vegeta wondered, watching as a small glass was placed in front of him. He lifted it up curiously, and scoffed in disgust. The little glass could barely hold anything! He could put down 1,000 of these things, he arrogantly concluded, putting the glass back down and watching as it was filled.

"Knock em down!"

All five men chugged down their shots, and Vegeta had to force himself not to cough afterwards. He hadn't had a drink that strong in a _long _time. He watched as his shot glass was immediately filled up, before observing his competition. None of them seemed fazed, especially not Yamcha. Vegeta glared at him, more determined than ever to win this fucking thing. He raised his shot glass, ready for the next round.

* * *

"_Not long. _Yeah, right."

Bulma looked over at the time for the fifth time in less than fifteen minutes. Vegeta had been gone for over four hours, and so she figured he just wasn't coming back tonight. She sighed, curling up in bed with her novel she was reading. She would give him another ten minutes before she called it a night.

Just as she was about to do that, her cell phone vibrated on the nightstand. She reached over to grab it, and saw that it was a text message from Krillin. Her jaw literally dropped when she read the message, before she shook her head and got out of bed.

Meanwhile, Vegeta shook his head rapidly to stay focused. One look at Yamcha and he laughed out loud. His main competition was reeling. Yamcha looked like he was seconds away from passing out as he cradled his filled shot glass.

"Chug it! Chug it!" a crowd of strangers chanted, with Yajirobe in the lead. Such an epic drinking game had drawn in spectators, with all the males going for Yamcha and all the females going for Vegeta. The latter was mostly due to the fact that Vegeta had long since discarded his t-shirt, since the alcohol had made him start to sweat profusely once he passed fifteen shots. He hadn't meant to provide a show, but he had every woman fawning over his excellent physique.

"I can't," Yamcha mumbled, staring at his glass bleakly. He lowered his head to the table and groaned miserably, making Vegeta immediately leap up to his feet.

"YES. _I _AM THE VICTOR!" Vegeta screamed, almost falling backwards over his chair before Krillin steadied him. Everyone cheered as he yelled out, "I am the Prince of ALL Saiyans, and I am superior to every human in here and on this fucking planet! That includes YOU, and YOU, and YOU…" he said, pointing in Yajirobe's general direction. Vegeta squinted at him, before he slurred, "Waitamin, aren't you the worthless fuck that cut off my tail?"

"Well, look at the time! Gotta go, wedding and all tomorrow, byyyeeee!" Yajirobe yelled, exiting with lightning speed.

"Vegeta, why don't you sit down?" Krillin suggested, tugging the Saiyan's arm.

More of his friends had trickled in as the night went on, though Tien left after Vegeta started yelling at him that he was a disgusting pedophile for getting it on with a little white freak. The groom-to-be wasn't exactly sober, but compared to his friends, he was by far the most sober of them. Roshi had already gotten slapped hard four times by four different women, and it had taken an extraordinary effort on Krillin's part to keep Yamcha and Vegeta from getting into a fight while taking their shots. He needed reinforcements, and so he had called Bulma.

"Get your hands off me, Baldy! I don't know how you grease that toaster of yours so don't fucking touch me!" Vegeta yelled, shoving Krillin off him. The prince then leaned on the table as he laughed at Yamcha, "Not running your mouth anymore, are you, weakling? That's right! I took your life, and then I took your woman, and now I took your pride, because I am the Prince of…oh, shit," he moaned, swaying a little on his feet before Krillin grabbed him again.

"Here, sit down," Krillin said, leading Vegeta back to his seat where the Saiyan sat down heavily. "I'll get you some water-"

"Wait, wait," Vegeta said, putting his arm around Krillin's shoulders and holding the smaller man in place. Krillin blinked in surprise, looking extremely uncomfortable as Vegeta raised his other finger and slurred, "Look, I don't like you. I mean I REALLY don't like you, Baldy! But that's okay because I hate most people. So since I got a lack of options here, it's just you and me, you know what I'm saying?"

"Yeah, I think so," Krillin awkwardly answered, not really following.

"Good, you got a brain in there! Now… WHAT ARE YOU ALL LOOKING AT!" Vegeta screamed at everyone who was still around them, raising his free hand which was glowing with ki. Krillin immediately reached over and forced Vegeta's hand back down.

"Little privacy, please," Krillin politely asked, before sighing in relief when everyone mostly dispersed.

Vegeta laughed out loud, "See? That's what I like about you. You got _guts, _Baldy, even though that's why you've gotten your ass kicked like, over nine thousand times."

Krillin's face flushed red as he defensively said, "It wasn't _that_ many times-"

"But the marriage thing. See, I don't understand why you would do it. That bitch could kill you. Easily. She could do it in her sleep. She could probably just think about her killing you and then you'd die-"

"Yeah, I get it," Krillin grumbled.

"Why would you marry her then?"

"Because I love her. Why else?"

Vegeta groaned in disgust, removing his arm from around Krillin and freeing the smaller warrior. "Love," he snorted, waving a hand dismissively.

"Yeah…you don't know what love is, huh?" Krillin chuckled.

"Hn. Human emotion," Vegeta grumbled, blinking heavily as he ran a hand through his hair. "So what's the marriage thing like on Earth? Is it unbreakable?"

"Uh, not really. You could get a divorce if you really want to…" Krillin thought for a bit, before his brow furrowed and he asked, "Why, are you thinking about you know, asking Bulma?"

"No!" Vegeta defensively yelled. He sneered at Krillin in disgust, "No, I am _not_."

"Well, I think you should. Just so no one steals her away."

"No one will. The woman loves me."

"And you don't love her?"

Vegeta groaned again, officially reaching his limits with this conversation, drunk or not. "What time is it? Shit, I gotta go…WHERE THE FUCK IS MY SHIRT?"

Bulma finally walked into the place Krillin told her to go, and she instantly placed where Vegeta was. It wasn't hard to do, since he was in all his Super Saiyan glory and he stuck out like a sore thumb. Fortunately, it was late and almost everyone there thought his transformation was just a side effect of their own drinking.

"How the fuck am I supposed to put this shit on now," Vegeta muttered under his breath, staring at his shirt which was inside-out and laid out in front of him. It was spinning randomly in his mind, and he couldn't get it to stop. "Hn. It's fucking backwards…"

"It's alright, just put your jacket on."

The prince blinked and looked over his shoulder to see Bulma standing right behind him. "Shit," he said, reaching up to rub his eyes. "I said I wouldn't be long…"

"It's okay," Bulma calmly said, picking up his jacket and putting it over his shoulders. "Come on. Let's go home."

Between her and Krillin, they both helped Vegeta walk out and get into her hover jet. The prince immediately leaned against the door, already regretting letting Yamcha bait him. Oh, he was going to be hurting tomorrow. He could feel it.

Vegeta didn't notice when exactly Bulma stopped talking to Krillin and they started flying back to Capsule Corp. When he opened his eyes again, he had a clear view out the window. Bulma was taking a shortcut home (she loved Vegeta to death, but she did _not _want to deal with him throwing up in her hover jet), and she was flying over a dark patch of the city. Vegeta blinked a few times, having regained his bearings a little bit. His sight focused on the night sky, and he slowly turned to Bulma.

"Stop the jet."

"What?" Bulma asked, glancing over at him in surprise. She had thought he was passed out, so his rough voice had scared the hell out of her.

"Stop it. I wanna show you something, while I'm drunk enough to actually go through with it."

Bulma sighed, before deciding she would humor him. When she found a roof she could land on, she landed her jet and unlocked the door for him. Vegeta opened it and nearly fell right out, but he caught himself at the last second. Bulma got out too and came around, wrapping her own jacket tighter around her.

"What is it, Vegeta?" she asked, looking at him in exasperation. She had seen him buzzed a couple of times, but never this drunk. At this point, she wouldn't have been surprised if he dropped his jeans and flashed her.

"C'mere," he said, reaching his hand out for her, his other hand gripping onto the edge of her hover jet for balance.

Bulma hesitated, hoping he wouldn't actually try to fly or something. She took a deep breath, before giving him her hand. Vegeta pulled her over, holding her securely against him, her back to his chest. Bulma was about to object, thinking he wanted sex, when he pointed up over her shoulder with his free hand.

"Look. See the constellation there?" He tried his best to outline what he was looking at.

"Yeah. That's the Big Dipper."

"See where it ends, up top here?" He moved his finger up a little. "See that gap there?"

"Yes."

"That's where my planet would have been," Vegeta admitted. Bulma looked over her shoulder at him, but his eyes were glazed over as he lost himself in memories. "I always looked at the constellations, every planet I was ever on. And I would find where my home planet would've been. For some years after it was gone, I could still see its light. So even though I could never go back, I still had a piece of home, no matter where I was."

Bulma could practically feel him lose some strength when he continued after a moment of gathering his thoughts, "But then one day, the light was gone. I kept looking for it, on every new planet, but I couldn't find it anymore. With the light there, I could pretend that the planet was still there. That I wasn't alone. But without the light there…I lost everything, Bulma."

Bulma somehow managed to turn around in his hold to face him. With his guard completely down, Vegeta's eyes were clouded with so many emotions, she needed a lifetime to figure them all out.

"You're not alone anymore," she said, gently touching his face. "You have me and Trunks, no matter what. You won't ever lose us."

His response was as immediate as it was genuine, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Putting up with my bullshit."

"Oh…well yes, that does merit at least one thank you a day," Bulma laughed.

"I got you something," Vegeta mumbled, fumbling with the inside of his jacket. His vision was starting to swim, so he was trying to rush before he passed out and forgot to give her the very thing he'd gone looking for.

Bulma, however, was completely taking his actions in a different way. Her eyes were widening, and her heart was suddenly racing. He wasn't going to pull out a ring, was he? Oh God, he was! He was going to propose!

To her surprise and disappointment, though, instead of a ring, Vegeta pulled out a familiar Senzu bean.

"So you can walk normally tomorrow," the prince awkwardly said, not knowing why she looked so disappointed.

"Oh, well…thank you, Vegeta, that's very sweet of you," Bulma said, forcing a smile. It truly was a rare gesture on his part, and she didn't want to ruin it just because she got her hopes up over something else.

Vegeta was going to respond, when his stomach suddenly lurched and his visible world tilted. He managed to turn away from her as he dropped to his knees and threw up. Bulma instinctively flinched back, before sighing. Yes, definitely not the ending to her night that she was anticipating.

Looking over her shoulder at the stars, though, she figured this one was pretty damn good too.


	13. Step closer

The alarm clock dutifully started blaring the next morning, and it was promptly silenced by Bulma's fist shooting out and slamming the snooze button. She had a lot of things to do before Krillin's wedding, and her mind was shouting at her to stop being lazy and to get up. But she told her inner responsibility voice to fuck off; after all, ten more minutes of sleep wouldn't hurt.

Ten minutes later, the alarm blasted again. Bulma let out a small whine and slammed the snooze button again. She buried her face into her pillow, her mind nagging her with a checklist of things that had to get done. But after an exhausting night, she had no energy or desire to do anything. As she dozed back to sleep, she pondered whether or not she could pay Krillin to move his wedding back a week.

The third time the alarm went off, Bulma reached over to shut it off again, but she shrieked when the alarm clock exploded practically in her face. The heiress quickly shot back as far as she could from the unexpected explosion, which sent her scrambling over Vegeta. He was naked over the sheets, and he flinched when Bulma's knee came awfully close to giving him a rude wake-up call between his legs, but otherwise didn't react to her frantic movement.

"What the hell?" Bulma yelled, now wide awake as she looked at what was left of her alarm clock. She turned her gaze down to the culprit, the man she was hovering over. Vegeta had one arm draped over his eyes as she angrily demanded, "What did you do that for! I was going to shut it off, you didn't have to blast-"

She was rudely cut off when Vegeta effortlessly shoved her off him, a move that would've sent her flying right off the bed if she hadn't desperately clenched a handful of bedsheets at the last second. Bulma angrily sat up again, fuming as she glared at the Saiyan in her bed. The prince rolled away from her so he was on his stomach, letting his arm fall over the side of the bed. With his other arm, he shifted his pillow so it was over his head, tuning out the angry woman unleashing a string of creative insults. He normally would have shot something back, but his head was hurting far too much for him to engage in their usual banter. He could barely form a coherent thought other than he just wanted sleep.

Bulma huffed as Vegeta fell asleep again. He was half of the reason why she was so tired in the first place. He had been a complete handful to drag to bed, vomiting again on the upstairs carpet and on her _brand new leather shoes. _The fact that she hadn't killed him proved how much she loved the jerk.

Finally, after getting him situated in bed and cleaning up the mess, she had crawled into bed herself, eager to get a few hours of sleep…

…only to have Trunks wake up fifteen minutes later, bawling miserably in his crib. Bulma groaned but had no choice. Motherly duties beckoned, and so she went to check on her little boy, only to find that he had also thrown up in his crib. He had gotten it all over himself, and so it was a long night for the beautiful heiress of Capsule Corp. That was confirmed when she flicked on the light in her bathroom. Bulma cringed at her reflection in the mirror. It was going to take some expert makeup to hide her exhaustion.

To her surprise, Trunks was awake when she softly cracked open the door a half hour later. He was sitting up in his crib, rubbing his eyes, but he instantly looked up when he heard the door opening. Shifting over, Trunks stood up, holding onto the bars of his crib.

"Mama," he whimpered, reaching his arms for Bulma. She entered the room and went over to his crib, picking him up.

"Oh Trunks, you're burning up," Bulma worriedly said, feeling his head as he snuggled against her. She sighed when she felt his sweaty hair as he whimpered again. She raised up the thermometer to see the reading a couple of minutes later. 106 degrees. Definitely a fever, but at least not a bad one. Trunks' body temperature was normally at 103, a nice medium between her and Vegeta, who was around 108.

"Looks like my little Super Saiyan is sick, huh?"

"Yeah," Trunks whined.

"Don't worry, Grandma can make you a little bit of soup, and then you'll feel better," Bulma brightly informed him. "And then maybe tomorrow, I can take you to the park?"

"YEAH!" Trunks yelled in a burst of energy as he smiled widely.

Bulma smiled knowingly. "Yeah, I thought that would make you feel a little better," she laughed as she carried him out of his room to get him medicine.

She was distracted on her way to the infirmary though, by the sound of conversation coming from the living room. Her mother was chatting away, but she couldn't place the other woman's voice. Curiosity got the best of her, and so Bulma peeked into the living room to see who was over at such an early hour. Her mother was sitting across from another young woman who looked like she was in her mid-20s with sharp green eyes. Her brown hair was tied back neatly, and there wasn't one wrinkle on her attire. Probably another maid or help of some kind, Bulma figured. She was about to walk off, not wanting to interrupt when she still looked like a mess, but Trunks abruptly gave her away.

"Gramma!" the little boy shouted. He squirmed in Bulma's arms, making her lower him to the floor. Trunks then charged over to Bunny, uncaring that he was interrupting his grandmother's conversation as he scrambled up into her lap.

"Why, good morning, Trunks," Bunny brightly said as he cuddled against her.

"Sick," Trunks whimpered.

"He threw up last night and now he's got a fever," Bulma sheepishly cut in, trying to tie back her loose blue hair into a somewhat decent ponytail. "I'm sorry to interrupt, I was just on my way to get him some medicine to bring his fever down."

"No, don't be sorry, this is your home!" the woman across from Bunny said as she stood up. She gave Bulma a bright smile as she came over to her and extended her hand. "My name is Rina McGuire. You must be Bulma Briefs. It's so great to finally meet you!"

"The pleasure is mine," Bulma politely greeted, shaking the woman's hand. "Please, call me Bulma."

"I was just speaking with your mother about the nanny position for your son that you posted about."

"Ohhh, right, right," Bulma yawned. It was still early, and it felt like she wasn't firing on all cylinders just yet. She had completely forgotten that she had made a posting about hiring a nanny days ago. For all of her mother's quirks, Bunny usually pegged people's character perfectly, so Bulma let her do an initial screen before she met a potential hire for a one-on-one interview.

"Your mother asked me to come early, since you all have a wedding to get to later today. You have a lovely home."

"I do, don't I?" Bulma smugly answered. This girl was already on her good side. "But yes, one of my close friends is getting married. Speaking of which, Mom, can I talk to you alone for a minute?"

"Of course, dear," Bunny said as she stood up, carrying Trunks. "Rina, would you like to meet my handsome grandson?"

"Absolutely! Hi, Trunks!" Rina excitedly said as she reached her arms out for him. Trunks looked at her for a moment, and then hesitantly extended his arms to her. Meanwhile, Bunny and Bulma walked into the kitchen together. Bulma then faced her mother, pulling her robe on tighter.

"Mom, with that fever, we can't bring Trunks with us to the wedding. I know you wanted to come with us, but do you think you can stay and watch him? I won't be there long, and then you can go when I come back."

"Why doesn't Vegeta watch him while we go?" Bunny suggested. "He said he didn't want to come along. They can spend some father and son time together!"

"Vegeta's got a hangover, so it's probably not a great idea."

"Oh, I see…oh, I know!" Bunny exclaimed. "Why doesn't Rina watch him? There's no better way to see if she's suited to be Trunks' nanny."

Bulma's face crinkled up with indecision. "I don't know about that. I haven't even seen her resume, or had a real interview with her, or run a background check or anything. I'm not sure how comfortable I feel leaving Trunks alone with someone I don't know-"

"Her resume is right here, dear," Bunny said, reaching over to a piece of paper on the counter. She handed it over to her daughter for her to see. "She has some nursing school experience, and she loves children. I think she'd be a great fit!"

"This _is _an impressive resume," Bulma relented as her blue eyes scanned over the experience Rina had working with children. "Well, let me talk to Vegeta. If he can check in on them every now and then, then she can watch Trunks while we're gone."

"Oh, good! She seems like such a nice girl," Bunny giggled, and then went over to offer Rina a drink. Bulma watched the woman in question studiously for a moment. She was getting good vibes from her, and Trunks wasn't going into his usual shyness around her either. It wasn't enough to guarantee her the job, but if things went well today, then it would certainly be a step in the right direction.

After getting Trunks some ibuprofen, getting some coffee in her system, and speaking with Rina for a little longer, Bulma finally went back into her bedroom. Vegeta was still in the same position he'd been in when she left earlier, sound asleep with one arm holding a pillow over his head. She glanced back at the metal littering her side of the bed from the destroyed alarm clock, and rolled her eyes. Clearly, she needed to start reinforcing her electronics and make them "Saiyan rage proof".

"Vegeta?" she called out. He didn't stir. The heiress avoided the mess on the floor and climbed back into her bed. She crawled over to the sleeping prince, and settled down next to him.

"Vegeta? Hey, I need you to get up," Bulma said, gently slipping the pillow out from under his arm. He grunted against the mattress, and weakly waved his hand for her to get lost. Bulma put the pillow aside, and then shook his shoulder. He gave a low, threatening growl, but she was undeterred. "How do you feel?"

"Fantastic."

"Look, I know that you feel like hell, but I still need you to get up. Trunks has a fever, so I'm not taking him with me to the wedding, and I think we might've found a nanny for him, but I need you to-"

"No."

"You didn't even let me finish what I was saying!" Bulma cried in exasperation.

"Is the boy dying?"

Bulma blinked, before snapping, "No, he's not dying! He just has a fe-"

"If he's not dying, then I don't give a shit. Now get lost," Vegeta snarled, snatching the pillow back. He raised his head and slid the pillow underneath him, and then buried his face into it. He sighed when he felt how cool the pillow was, ignoring the woman who was talking again. Absent-mindedly, he contemplated ripping her tongue out of her mouth. Sure, there would be a _little_ blood and she would probably be pissed, but at least there would be quiet. She'd eventually get over it.

But he would unfortunately miss that expert tongue later on. He sighed again in defeat, tuning back in to what she was saying.

"…she seems like she knows what she's doing, but I don't feel right leaving her here alone with Trunks without knowing more about her. What if she kidnaps him or something?" Bulma pondered out loud in concern. Vegeta snorted in disgust, but she ignored it as she continued, "But, I'd feel better if you met her and maybe checked in on them every now and-"

"Look," he snapped, his voice escalating as he continued, "It's bad enough that you need help to tend to the boy. Now you've found help, and you can't even trust her. So shut up and just take the child with you to Baldy's wedding. Or make other arrangements. I don't care what the fuck you do, just leave me in peace, blasted female!"

"Hey, don't be mad at _me _because you have a hangover! No one told you to overdo it with all those shots you were taking!"

Vegeta's tone was agitated as he grumbled some heated words she couldn't understand, but she did catch the word "poison" being used somewhere in there. She laughed a little, and then reached down to gently scratch his scalp through the short hairs behind his ear. She smiled when his grumbling and cursing abruptly died, and he grunted in content over her touch. His features visibly relaxed, his mouth going slack, and her smile grew.

"Will you please come downstairs and just meet this nanny? Please?" she sweetly asked him, alternating between scratching and massaging, knowing now from experience that it always calmed him.

"No," he answered, but she could tell by his softened tone that she almost had him. Bulma smiled knowingly.

"You know, Vegeta, you're lucky you're not coming with us today if you're feeling that bad that you can't even get out of bed. Everyone else is going to the wedding, even Yamcha."

Vegeta snorted in disbelief. "That fool isn't going. He had as much to drink as me."

"He _is_ going. He's going to pick me up and we're riding together. Since you refuse to come along, Yamcha's going to be my date. I already talked to him this morning and he was awake and getting ready."

It took every ounce of discipline Vegeta had not to show the shock on his face. He rolled onto his side so he was facing her and rubbed his eyes, before squinting at Bulma. He could barely believe it. How could that fool bounce back from all those shots they took so fast? All Vegeta felt like doing was sleeping the day away, but that was out of the question if that weakling could get up and go to a damn wedding. He would not be bested.

A hard scowl suddenly settled on his face when all of Bulma's words finally sank in, and his thoughts were diverted.

"Wait. Did you say he is going to be your _date_?" Vegeta questioned threateningly.

"Well, you won't come with me," Bulma explained with a shrug. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for the ensuing jealousy argument. Her brilliant mind was already preparing her defense, but to her surprise, Vegeta just grunted and shifted over so he was sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to her. Bulma stared at his back, blinking in surprise as she asked, "…Is that okay?"

"Hn. What do I care who you go with," Vegeta bit out, sounding completely indifferent, even though he was anything but. Still - he had promised her that he would keep his jealousy to a minimum. She wanted his trust, and that wasn't an easy thing for a man like him to give.

But, he had to start somewhere, and at least try. She deserved that much.

The prince rubbed his forehead in misery, before grumbling, "Just don't get too much of that fool's stench on you, or I _won't_ touch you when you return."

Bulma smiled at his unspoken trust. "Don't worry. I won't be gone long, not with Trunks feeling sick."

"Hn."

Vegeta tensed when he felt a feathery light kiss on his bare back, right by a shoulder blade. Bulma grinned when the muscles on his back twitched a little as she purposely let her breath linger right over his naked skin.

"Besides. I love you too much to deny you the _wonderful privilege_ of touching me," she teasingly whispered.

"Conceited woman," Vegeta snarled, quickly getting to his feet. A second later, he disappeared into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Geez, _someone _is no fun when they have a hangover," Bulma quietly huffed.

"And _someone _is going to brutally die before they attend their midget friend's wedding," a rough voice growled from the bathroom.

Bulma rolled her eyes and started getting her things ready. Yamcha wasn't due for a while yet, and she had things to do. Like getting to know the nanny who was going to watch her son.

She was all smiles an hour later, downstairs in the kitchen as she conversed with Bunny and Rina. The more she talked to this girl, the more comfortable she felt around her. Trunks, in particular, was taking to the nanny prospect very well. He was still running a fever, but he still had his usual energy. The little boy was proving that much by banging his fist on the table of his high chair, chanting for food even while being fed.

"He sure has a healthy appetite!" Rina laughed as she helped Bunny make chicken soup for Trunks' lunch later.

"He gets that from his father," Bulma happily informed her, giving Trunks a piece of toast with jam. "Vegeta should be down here soon, so you can meet him."

"I'm just so happy that you're all giving me the opportunity to prove myself," Rina enthusiastically replied. "Here, Mrs. Briefs, let me mix that soup up for you," she politely volunteered. Bunny beamed as she handed her the spoon to mix up the chicken soup.

"Well, we're the ones who should be thanking _you. _You're a lifesaver," Bulma clarified, wiping Trunks' face with his bib that read "I Love My Daddy."

"It's not a problem, I'm happy to…" Rina slowly stopped mixing, and was barely able to breathe out, "…help."

Bulma and Bunny both followed her line of sight to the kitchen entrance, where Vegeta was slowly shuffling in. The prince looked every bit as hung over as he felt. His hair was disheveled, he was squinting, and his features were twisted into angry annoyance over the bright light in the kitchen. But what caught Bulma's immediate attention was the fact that he was only dressed in loose black jeans, which were undone. While high enough to cover everything that needed covering, they were still hanging low enough off his hips to advertise to the world that he didn't believe in wearing any kind of underwear.

"Vegeta, dear, you look famished. I'll make you some breakfast right away!" Bunny happily informed him, completely unfazed by his appearance.

"Just coffee," Vegeta gruffly ordered.

Meanwhile, the nanny prospect's eyes lingered on Vegeta a second too long for Bulma's taste. The heiress loudly cleared her throat, and Rina immediately turned her attention back to the soup, mixing it with renewed vigor. Bulma then stood up and went over to Vegeta, blocking him from prying eyes. The prince stopped and scowled as she grabbed his jeans and tugged them up a little.

"Vegeta, you can't wear your jeans like this," Bulma whispered to him. He squinted down as she buttoned and zipped his jeans up, and his scowl deepened. He could have sworn he had done that. "And put a shirt on," she continued. "I told you, we have company."

"Oh, it's okay," Rina cut in a little too fast. Bulma and Vegeta both looked over in her direction. "This is your home, please, don't change on my behalf."

"Who the fuck are you, and what makes you think you can address me?" Vegeta angrily demanded.

"Vegeta!" Bulma snapped. He rolled his eyes as she turned back to the young woman in the kitchen, who immediately averted her gaze from Vegeta's striking physique. "Rina, this is Trunks' father, Vegeta. Don't mind his attitude."

"Oh, so _this_ is Trunks' father," Rina almost giddily replied, walking over to the prince. "It's such a pleasure to meet you."

She extended her hand to him. Vegeta raised an eyebrow at her in curiosity, and his dark eyes scanned over her figure, something which didn't escape Bulma. The heiress unconsciously frowned, only now realizing that while tasteful, Rina's attire was a little provocative. That white blouse was cut a little _too_ low, now that Bulma thought about it.

Rina was oblivious to her scrutiny though as she teasingly told Vegeta, "Well, I can see why Trunks is such a handsome boy."

"Hn."

Vegeta looked the woman over once more, and concluded that she was no threat to his son. He then walked away from her in disinterest without shaking her hand, going over to Trunks' high chair. His lip twitched in disgust when he read the bib. He then put his hand on the boy's forehead to feel his temperature, ignoring Trunks trying to push his hand away.

"Anyways…Vegeta isn't coming with us to the wedding, so he'll be here in case you need any help with Trunks…" Bulma slowly said. She scowled when she saw that the young nanny wasn't even paying attention to her. Rina was absent-mindedly picking up the spoon to continue mixing the chicken soup, her green eyes lingering on Trunks and Vegeta. Mostly on Vegeta. Bulma loudly cleared her throat again, her eyes were blazing with warning when they made eye contact again.

"I'm sorry, Bulma," Rina sheepishly said, turning back to mixing her soup. She was thoroughly embarrassed that she had been snuffed out, _twice_, for checking out Vegeta. Thinking rapidly of what she could say so Bulma wouldn't fire her before officially hiring her, the young woman continued, "I was just wondering. Is Trunks potty trained yet?"

Bulma frowned, not appreciating the reminder of the project she had kept putting off. "Well, I got him a potty, but I haven't really gotten around to showing him how to use it…"

"Oh, well, I have a potty in my car that I was going to give to my nephew. It talks and kids really like it. I can try it with Trunks, and buy my nephew a new one, if you'd like," Rina suggested.

"No, that's okay," Bulma politely declined. "You don't have to do that-"

"Woman, just let her do it," Vegeta roughly interrupted, sitting down heavily at the table. He massaged one of his temples as Bunny promptly laid down a mug of hot coffee in front of him, along with a doughnut. "What the hell are you going to pay her for? To sing to him? She might as well teach the brat something useful, like not pissing on himself."

"I think it's a wonderful idea," Bunny chimed in. "Maybe the sweet boy will like the new potty more than the one he has now."

"But Trunks likes the potty he has now," Bulma defensively argued, shifting her gaze over to her little boy, who somehow had grape jam all over his fingers. She smiled at him. "Right, sweetie? You like your potty?"

"No," Trunks replied, happily sucking on his fingers. He scowled and then banged both little fists on the table of his high chair for emphasis as he yelled, "No potty!"

"Oh, he's just a baby, he doesn't even know what he's talking about," Bulma grumbled, her smile gone now. The car potty she bought Trunks was adorable, goddamnit, and he was going to use it.

Vegeta rolled his eyes, growing tired of the conversation as he irritably ordered, "One of you females make yourselves useful for a change, and bring me another cup of coffee at once."

Before anyone else could respond, Rina eagerly cut in, "I haven't put any creamer or sugar into the coffee Mrs. Briefs made me. I haven't touched it. You can have my coffee, Vegeta."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow, watching as the young woman approached him and put a mug of coffee down in front of him. Rina leaned over him to reach a napkin, inadvertently giving him a perfect view of her breasts. The prince leaned away, but he couldn't help but sneak a look. Not out of interest, but out of confusion. They looked hard and fake, but that made no sense to him. He looked away, vowing that he would never drink again.

"There you go," Rina said, handing Vegeta a napkin. He yanked it out of her hand and raised his coffee mug, missing the annoyed look in Bulma's eyes at their exchange.

"Well, I need to finish getting ready. Yamcha is on his way," Bulma announced. With that, she left the kitchen before anyone could say another word.

Twenty minutes later, Bulma was making sure her makeup was picture perfect. She looked at herself in the mirror in satisfaction. She was a beautiful woman. There was no reason for her to feel the stirrings of jealousy in her stomach over the brief interaction between Rina and Vegeta. Who cared that the young nanny had practically eye raped the prince right in front of her? It didn't mean he was going to go screw the girl.

Bulma adjusted the straps on her sleeveless, silk dark blue dress. Finally, she took a deep breath, and then confidently spoke to her reflection, staring into her own blue eyes.

"He's okay with you going out with Yamcha, for crying out loud. You're not a kid anymore, you can't get all jealous over some hoochy nanny! You are a fucking rock star, girl. Rock star Bulma Briefs-"

"Woman!" Vegeta suddenly yelled out from the other side of the door, startling Bulma half to death. "Your parents are gone and that pathetic excuse of a warrior is here to escort you. Come downstairs immediately so he can leave!"

Bulma sighed, looked herself over one last time to make sure she looked stunning as always, and then stepped out into the bedroom. Vegeta was rubbing his forehead in frustration, willing his headache to disappear, but all of that came to a halt when he saw the heiress emerge from the bathroom. Bulma inwardly smirked at the familiar way he was staring at her. There was nothing but need and desire in his intense gaze as his dark eyes feasted on her. The prince took one eager step towards her, but she raised her hand, and he stopped.

"Not right now, Vegeta. I don't have time to get ready again."

Vegeta frowned in disappointment. His frown deepened when he saw a little annoyance and something else in her blue eyes that he didn't recognize. He hesitated to even ask, but against his better judgment, he demanded, "What's wrong?"

Bulma folded her arms in front of her as her eyebrows drew together. Even though she trusted him, she still didn't like some other woman drooling like a silly fangirl over her man. She hadn't liked it back with Yamcha, and she most certainly didn't like it now with Vegeta. With a nonchalant shrug, she evenly answered, "Nothing's wrong."

The beautiful heiress then waited for the prince to press her for what was truly bothering her, just like every man in her life always did when she answered that question that way. Vegeta, however, just shrugged and turned around, walking away and disappearing into their spacious bedroom closet. Bulma stared after him, jaw dropped.

"That's it? You're not going to say anything else?"

"What is there to say?" Vegeta countered from inside the closet. "I asked what was wrong, you said there is nothing wrong. I didn't really care to know anyways."

"Then why did you even ask?"

"Because it's about that time of the month when you start getting excessively bitchy, and I want to get laid later when you return. I was trying to help my cause."

Bulma's face turned red as she barged into the closet, where Vegeta was slipping on a collared white polo shirt. "Are you insinuating that I'm PMSing!"

His back was to her as he replied, "How do you Earthlings say it? _If the shoe fits._"

"You are _such_ a jackass," Bulma angrily informed him as he turned back around to face her. "I really can't stress it enough. You are just so inconsiderate sometimes, and then I saw you looking at Rina's—_Vegeta!_"she gasped in surprise when Vegeta reached out and cupped both of her breasts through her dress. His look was studious as he felt the weight of them like he was a scientist, before Bulma pulled back out of his reach, adjusting her dress while she did.

"Hn. Hers are different," he commented idly, frowning while Bulma looked at him in bewilderment.

"What?"

"The female who you want to look after our son. Her breasts are different from yours."

Bulma almost didn't know what to say, her mind racing. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, and she asked, "You _touched _hers?"

Vegeta's upper lip curled back in disgust. He was insulted by the mere suggestion as he barked, "No, I didn't touch the stupid female! I just noticed when she leaned over me that they seemed…unnaturally…_sturdy_…" he awkwardly relented, unable to keep the confusion out of his voice.

Bulma's features softened as realization set in. She had noticed that the girl had work done on her, but it hadn't occurred to her that Vegeta would notice that as well and have questions about it. She struggled not to laugh at his facial expression. "Yeah, well, of course they looked different. She has implants. You can tell."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow, looking even more perplexed. "Implants?"

"Yeah. Some women get implants in their breasts to make them bigger," Bulma explained, unable to rein in her laughter when she saw the appalled look on Vegeta's face. When his dark eyes lowered to her breasts, she flirtatiously cupped them through her dress and added, "No worries, sweetheart. All this loveliness is 100 percent natural and 100 percent yours."

"It _better_ all be mine."

"Hey B, hurry up, we're going to be late!" Yamcha yelled from the outside of their bedroom door.

A low growl rumbled deep in Vegeta's chest while he glared in Yamcha's direction. Bulma couldn't help but laugh. She already knew what he was thinking. She came up next to him and kissed him on the cheek, smiling happily when she saw that she left lipstick on his skin.

"You could still get dressed and come with me. What do you say? Do you want to be my date?"

"No," he sneered in disgust. "Too much goddamned happiness in one place."

"I don't know," Bulma teased. "I heard you were a party animal last night-"

"_Shut the hell up right now, woman,_" Vegeta snarled, his jaw setting as he glared threateningly at her. Bulma just laughed out loud, unfazed as she reached out for his hand.

"Alright, alright. Come on then, tough guy. I'll give you something for your hangover so you feel better. You still look a little worse for wear." He was about to protest before she added, "Only a little aspirin, and no one will know. I promise."

Vegeta grunted, following her wordlessly to the door while she pulled him along. Bulma opened the door, and Yamcha instantly turned towards it to face her. He was dressed in a sharp suit, but that was the only thing sharp about him. His hair was only semi tamed and he looked haggard, but he was wired after taking a ton of energy drinks – something that was obvious with his twitching fingers.

"Wow B, you look great!" Yamcha brightly exclaimed. Vegeta rolled his eyes, pulling free from Bulma's hand and crossing his arms defensively over his chest.

"I know," Bulma laughed. "You look good too, Yamcha. I like your suit."

"Thanks! I really like it. Heck, I was thinking I could wear it when _I _get married!"

"Hn. No sane female would ever marry _you_, clown," Vegeta sneered.

"Vegeta!" Bulma chastised. "Haven't you ever heard that if you have nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all?"

"Whoever said that stupid shit never met _this _moron."

Bulma was about to respond when the three of them heard Trunks shriek loudly from the bathroom. Yamcha and an alarmed Bulma immediately ran over in that direction to see what was going on, but Vegeta leisurely strolled after them. Ever since Trunks had snuck out of the compound, the prince had worked for some time every single day on strengthening his mental connection with his young son. That situation was _never_ happening again, of this he was sure.

As he expected, nothing was amiss. Trunks was shrieking with laughter in the bathroom with Rina, who was laughing along with him. Yamcha was there in the doorway, ogling the nanny shamelessly, while Bulma was standing next to him. The heiress looked less than amused, and when Vegeta came up behind them, he immediately saw why. Next to the toilet was a small, green, miniature toilet just for Trunks. The thing was shaped like a large frog, with big eyes at the top and with its mouth as the actual potty. The little boy was proudly standing right in front of it.

"Mama!" Trunks screamed happily as he pointed one finger directly at the potty. "Pee-pee on potty!"

"Yeah, I see that," Bulma forced herself to say, giving a strained smile. "What a big boy, huh?"

Even with her genuine enthusiasm for his accomplishment though, she couldn't quite keep the contempt out of her eyes when she looked at the frog potty. Of all the potties Rina could choose, she got a damn frog. The lady was _definitely_ not getting hired on a permanent basis.

"Well, we need to get going, we're going to be late," Yamcha chirped up.

"Right. Meet me downstairs, will you?" Bulma demanded more than asked. Yamcha shrugged and walked off, whistling to himself while Vegeta eyed him in disgust. When Rina wasn't looking, Bulma reached into a drawer and pulled out some aspirin. She discretely slipped Vegeta the bottle of pills, and then went over to Trunks. She bent down to him and felt his head, pleased to feel that his fever wasn't getting worse. She then kissed his forehead. "Alright sweetie, I have to go. I'll see you later. Be a good boy."

"Don't worry, Bulma. I'll take good care of him," Rina brightly said.

"You better," Bulma only semi joked, turning towards Vegeta. She leaned in close to his ear, looking like she was kissing him when in actuality, she was whispering under her breath, "Destroy that goddamned frog for me, will you?"

"Hn."

"I won't be long."

Vegeta then watched her walk off to meet Yamcha until she disappeared from sight. He tracked her low ki for a few seconds, falling into thought, before Trunks was suddenly clinging to his leg. He looked down and angrily shook the boy off.

"Vegeta, did you need anything?" Rina asked, almost shyly. Vegeta glanced up at her, and then shook his head.

"No. I'm going to train," he informed her. It was a blatant lie. He actually was going back to sleep. But she was a peon, she didn't need to know his business. "You just watch my son, and I expect him returned in the same condition he's in now."

Rina nodded, flashing him a subtly suggestive smile. "Well, if you need anything at all, please let me know."

"…idiot female," Vegeta grumbled under his breath, spinning on his heel and angrily stalking away. His experiences with the human female population had never been good. He supposed it could have been worse though. Trunks could have been female. He snorted at the thought as he headed into his bedroom and closed the door behind him.

* * *

Krillin's wedding was bittersweet. Goku's absence was felt by everyone, especially the groom, but the party went on. The Briefs bought the newly married couple a brand new red sports car, and the first one who practically dove into the vehicle to drive it was Android 17. He gave a half-hearted promise to return the vehicle, and then sped away. Android 18 said she would personally retrieve the vehicle later before someone flew off after him, and then the party went back to normal. That is, until a chunky four-month-old Goten happily crawled under a table, nearly knocking over the extraordinary wedding cake from Bulma and Vegeta (who had nothing to do with it, but Bulma put his name on there anyways).

Bulma was calling home every so often to see how Trunks was doing, always asking the nanny to put Vegeta on the phone. The first time, she spoke to the prince and the conversation was short and dry (_"the damn brat is alive, so stop calling already" - click_). She ignored that warning and called a second time, but the line was abruptly cut as soon as Rina handed Vegeta the phone. The third time Bulma called, the young nanny prospect answered on a different line, sounding shaken up and a bit terrified. Bulma feigned ignorance and concern, though she already had a good idea of the Saiyan intimidation that must have gone down. She only wished she could've been a fly on the wall to see it.

With her jealousy curbed, Bulma stayed longer at the wedding reception. She felt better now, knowing that her son's fever was slowly going down and that there was no whorish woman flirting with her man (anymore). Still, even with the dancing, food, drinks, and good company, she couldn't help the moments when her mind would wander to images of her and Vegeta getting married. Maybe after some more time (hopefully years) together, she could slowly ease him into the idea? It was food for thought.

What she didn't know was that the idea was already in Vegeta's mind, and not because of Krillin's wedding. The prince was holding a mug of black coffee, sitting at the large glass window in the library, looking out at the sky. It was dark outside now, and there was lightning flashing as rain poured down, streaking drops across the glass. Bulma's parents had stopped by briefly, and then gone off to a "swingers party" – Vegeta didn't know what that was, and was somewhat afraid to ask – and he had personally dismissed the nanny after she put Trunks down for the night. Her obvious attraction to him was more irritating than flattering, and he wasn't going to deal with it.

But now, he couldn't help but wonder. Was it worth getting married just so he wouldn't have to deal with watching men hit on Bulma all the time, or deal with women making advances on him? It wouldn't be a solution – they were both far too good-looking, he arrogantly concluded – but it would certainly help. The whole planet would know that Bulma was _his _if she wore a ring…

"DADA!" Trunks screamed from his crib, rudely interrupting his thoughts. Vegeta downed the rest of his coffee. He then crushed the mug to pieces in his hand, letting the fragments fall to the floor.

"_GO TO SLEEP!"_ the prince screamed back. He could hear Trunks start bawling over the thunder, and he rolled his eyes. Grumbling to himself, he got up to his feet and headed over to his son's bedroom, roughly barging in. Going right up to the crib, Vegeta ordered, "Stop that nonsense and go to sleep this instant."

A frightened Trunks whimpered, pointing to the window and the storm beyond it.

"I'm the scariest being in this fucking universe, boy. So lay down and go to sleep before I make you sleep outside in that storm. Don't try me," Vegeta threatened. Trunks' lip quivered as his eyes filled with fresh tears which were spilling over, running down his cheeks. The prince sighed and cracked his neck. He reached down into the crib, resting his hand on the back of Trunks' neck to check his fever. His temperature was back to normal.

He was going to withdraw his hand when Trunks sniffed and rested his head on his father's forearm, reaching up with his little hand to clutch onto his father's arm more securely. Vegeta raised an eyebrow when he realized that his son was using his presence to calm his fear. It was the weirdest feeling – offering comfort instead of striking raw terror. Weird and slightly uncomfortable, but not too terrible.

Vegeta let Trunks hold onto his arm for a short while longer, feeling the wetness on his skin from his son's tears. Finally, he awkwardly pulled his arm back, earning a whine from the small boy.

"Quit your crying, boy. I'll stay in here for five minutes, and not a second longer. So I suggest you fall asleep quickly."

Trunks sniffed, wiping at his eyes, and then smiled through his tears when he saw his father sit down in the leather recliner in the far corner of the room. Vegeta hauled over a small bin with toys, and propped his feet up on it, crossing his arms over his chest. Trunks laid down and covered himself up with his blanket.

There was silence for a few minutes between them. Trunks kicked his feet a little, happy that his father was in the room with him. Vegeta had his eyes closed, deep in thought, when Trunks finally broke the silence. "Dada?"

"What?"

"Stoh-wy!" Trunks whined, pointing at the impressive bookshelf in his room filled with children's books. His father eyed the bookshelf with disdain.

"I'm not reading you any of those damn books," Vegeta sneered. He frowned as he thought about it, and after a moment, he relented, "But…if you _must_ have a story, I suppose I can tell you a Saiyan story."

"Yeah!" Trunks excitedly shouted, before happily laying down and looking at his father expectantly.

"Very well. So, the first time I killed anyone was when I was roughly three years old in human time…"

Bulma's hair and jacket were both drenched as she walked into the compound a little later, carrying large, soaked paper bags in her arms and juggling her purse on her arm. She shoved the door shut with her butt, and then kicked off her heels, losing her balance when she did and nearly tumbling over.

The heiress looked up in surprise when a strong hand on her lower back steadied her. Vegeta was standing before her, and though the living room was dark, she could still see him clearly. His penetrating eyes roamed over her features as though committing all of them to memory, making her blush self-consciously. Her makeup had long lost its perfection, and she had no doubt some of it had smeared with the rain.

Her voice was wary as she asked, "Vegeta? You okay?"

Vegeta scowled in annoyance, removing his hand from her. He nonchalantly removed the paper bags from her arms.

"Food?" he asked, peering inside the bags. Bulma smiled, reminded of Trunks.

"Yeah, I stopped at an old favorite spot and got about fifteen subs. I used to go there when I had a hangover. And they're pretty damn good even when you don't have one."

He looked back up at her. "They're for me?"

"Well, you went out of your way for me yesterday. I figured I could get you something different to eat. I think you'll like them." Vegeta scowled and looked back down at the bags in his arms, staying silent. Bulma looked at him curiously. "You sure you're okay?"

He scoffed in disgust. "Of course I am."

"And the baby?"

"Fine. Sleeping," he answered with an indifferent shrug. "I also got rid of the female permanently."

Bulma's head snapped to him, her eyes widening in alarm. "Oh my god, you killed Rina?"

Vegeta blinked, before his eyes narrowed angrily. "No, you foolish woman. I just terminated her employment."

"Oh," she sighed in relief. "Well, whatever. I wasn't going to hire her anyways. I'll just build a nanny bot to help with Trunks when I'm working."

"Fine." He was silent for a few seconds, before venturing, "So how was it?"

Bulma looked surprised for a second, not having expected him to care, much less ask. When she saw that his interest was indeed genuine, she shrugged.

"It was really nice. I met a lot of Krillin's friends and there was an Android 17 sighting. Android 18 smiled! That was fun to see. Oh, and they _loved_ the cake you and I gave them."

Vegeta looked bewildered. "What cake?"

"Never mind," Bulma snickered, slipping out of her wet jacket. "I'm going to check on the baby and then have a nice hot bath. Will you join me? I do believe I promised that I would make up for getting you riled up yesterday."

"…we'll see."

The prince then turned around, walking off into the kitchen without another word or glance. Bulma chuckled, and then headed upstairs. She was looking forward to a bath. She felt sweaty and gross from all that dancing, and her feet were aching from her killer heels.

After making sure that her son was indeed alright, Bulma drew up a bath with hot water. She was scrubbing one leg absent-mindedly, wondering how many miles Android 17 put on the car her parents had bought for 18 and Krillin, when Vegeta finally came into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

"So how did it go today?" Bulma asked without looking up. Her tone was sarcastic as she asked, "Did that hoochy jump you as soon as I was out the door?"

Vegeta chuckled as he tugged his polo shirt off. "No, but I cannot help it that she had never seen a specimen like me."

"Oh geez. Get a hold of that ego, bud." Bulma rolled her eyes, glancing over as he loosened the belt on his jeans. "Did you destroy that stupid frog potty?"

"No. The boy likes it," he answered, stepping out of his jeans.

"Vegeta! I told you to destroy that damn thing," she half-whined. "I don't want Trunks becoming friends with the symbolic representation of my torment on Namek!"

Vegeta couldn't help the bark of laughter that escaped him over her dramatics. "_First _of all, woman, _I _am your actual tormenter from Namek. And secondly, don't be absurd. My son isn't going to become _friends _with something he pisses in_._"

"You don't know that, he's a baby," Bulma argued, pulling her legs back as Vegeta climbed into the bathtub with her. "You know how I feel about frogs."

"Well, the frog toilet is teaching the boy not to shit on himself, so I like it," he informed her as he sat down opposite of her. Bulma grabbed his hand though and tugged on it, silently telling him to come closer. Vegeta hesitated for a second, before complying, coming over and sitting down in front of her with his back towards her. Almost immediately, her hands were on his back, wetting his skin while she massaged him.

"Alright, I'll make you a deal. Trunks can keep the frog potty, if _you _start potty training him and start helping me change some dirty diapers."

"I'll destroy the stupid toilet tonight," Vegeta grumbled with no hesitation. His eyes were closed while she sensually ran a sponge over his chest, outlining his defined muscles. There was no space between their wet bodies now as he leaned back against her. The water was starting to feel hot to him as Bulma's free hand caressed his thigh under water, slowly moving up.

"There. Now was it so painful to give in to me?" she whispered in his ear.

"A little bit, yes. It pains my manhood. Perhaps you can help with that," he suggestively responded.

"Hm, perhaps I can," Bulma teased, her hand reaching his erection which was hot and itching for her touch. She smiled in appreciation. She could never have water "fun" with Yamcha, because he could never go until they got out. Not so with Vegeta. She touched him lightly, before squeezing him. His breath hitched the slightest bit, and she loved it. Something about having this powerful man reacting to her like this was a huge turn on. "Does that feel good?"

"Hn," he grunted absent-mindedly at her seductive tone, focused on the hand that was expertly touching, caressing, and stroking him underwater.

"I thought so," she smugly added, already prepared to show him hours of good loving, all thoughts of marriage quickly disappearing from her mind. It was probably never going to happen anyways. Fortunately, she was more than happy where they stood.

The funny thing was that before she even arrived to the compound, Vegeta had already made his decision. He was going to marry this woman. He just needed a little more time to wrap his head around it. Wary as he was of the commitment, he knew that Goku had made his marriage work. Hell, _Bulma's parents _were still married. If those fools could do it, he could damn well do it too.

His hips unconsciously jerked a little as his body brought him back to the attention Bulma was giving him. Vegeta growled and shifted their positions before Bulma could even react. Water splashed onto the floor from the sudden movement, but he didn't care as he settled the heiress so she was facing and straddling him. Who initiated the fiery kiss that followed was unclear, but he took complete control of it, much to her delight.

His decision had been made. The logistics though could definitely wait. After all, he had a long night ahead.


	14. Good day

It was a little past four in the morning when Bulma woke up, thanks to the restless Saiyan in bed with her. She peeked at the time, and then squinted over her shoulder at Vegeta. His hands were sparking blue light again and his breathing was ragged as he struggled with another nightmare. The heiress slowly sat up and yawned, before climbing out of bed altogether. She had the perfect thing to help in this situation, and now was the best time to test it out. Slipping on her robe, she left the room to go find it down in her lab.

Ten minutes later, Bulma quietly entered her bedroom again, this time carrying a pair of steel ki-draining handcuffs that she had finally gotten around to building. They could be hooked together like regular handcuffs (for "fun activities" with her prince), or the cuffs could be pulled apart like they were now. Her hope was that with his power down, she could freely comfort him without fear of getting her head blown off. Then maybe they could both get some real sleep.

Bulma sat down next to Vegeta, opening one of the cuffs. She looked him over, seeing a thin light of blue fire dancing around each hand, visible ki waiting to fire at a moment's notice. Biting her bottom lip hard, Bulma very gently touched his left hand which was on his stomach. His hand was unnaturally hot, so much it almost burned to touch him, but she kept her hand there. When Vegeta didn't respond to the contact, Bulma quickly and smoothly lifted his hand a few inches and locked the cuff around his wrist.

The effect was immediate. The light around his left hand died, and the one around his right hand dimmed considerably. Vegeta snorted and turned his head away, pulling his hand from hers and resting it on his chest. He stayed asleep, much to her relief. Nine times out of ten, he would have already woken up by now. But ever since Krillin's wedding a month ago, he had suddenly thrown himself back into his vigorous training harder than ever, for no reason she could place. She had underestimated how tired he really was.

_Man, I'm a freaking genius, _she smugly thought to herself a minute later as she snapped the other cuff around Vegeta's right hand. The last bit of light around his hand died down completely. Satisfied, Bulma looked him over, pleased when she saw that his breathing was settled now. Slowly, she drank in the sight of him, marveling over how handsome he was.

And then the situation dawned on her, making her swallow hard as her eyes grew darker with desire. Vegeta was sound asleep, his chest was slick with sweat, and there were cuffs on his wrists. Cuffs that she could easily link back together and lock over his head before he woke up…and then…

Bad images of all the dirty things she could do to the handsome prince suddenly flashed through Bulma's mind, and she unconsciously licked her lips a little. Vegeta was always so dominant when they had sex, so in charge – giving her free reign but always letting her know that it was only because he allowed it. He was strong, a bonafide alpha male who took no one's shit, not even hers. And she loved him all the more because of it. But damn if it wasn't getting her hot thinking of how helpless the Saiyan would be with her handcuffs on him. Completely submissive to her touch while she had him however she wanted.

She gently outlined Vegeta's defined abs with one manicured nail, raising an eyebrow when he didn't flinch. She then pulled her hand away and decided to let him rest for now.

He was going to need it.

A couple hours later, Vegeta frowned when he thought he heard a voice in his ear. Still mostly asleep, he turned his head away, mumbling under his breath that he would report to Zarbon soon. When he felt teeth playfully nipping at his ear though, he immediately jerked awake and tried to defend himself – only to find that he couldn't move his hands. They were locked over his head. He tried to sit up, but the locks on his wrists were restraining his motion. He also couldn't see, and he tried raising his ki only to find that he couldn't.

"What the _hell_?" Vegeta yelled, struggling and thrashing to break free.

"Vegeta, calm down, it's okay! It's just me!"

He stopped when he heard her voice, even though he was breathing hard now. "Bulma?"

"Yeah, it's just me, see?"

Vegeta couldn't see a damn thing, but he felt her leaning over him, and he could smell her better. He relaxed a little bit when his senses finally sharpened and he recognized where he was, even if he couldn't see. The prince rested his head back when he felt her soft hand rubbing his chest over his heart.

"It's alright. Just relax. Your heart's racing. This is supposed to be fun, not traumatizing, okay?"

"_Fun_? Tying me down is _fun_?"

"You're not tied down. Your feet are free."

"Yes, but my wrists are tied down."

"No, they're not_, _your wrists are just…you know, handcuffed together," she informed him, thankful he couldn't see her blush.

"Oh, well that's _so_ much better," he sneered.

"Look, I made you some cuffs to drain your ki, and it helped you sleep better. That's all I wanted to do with them, but seeing you in them…well…"

Vegeta instantly recognized that sultry tone, and it finally dawned on him what she wanted to do. He snorted, rolling his eyes behind his blindfold. "Vulgar woman. If you just wanted to fuck, you could have just asked and not gone to such absurd lengths."

"But what if I wanted to try it like this?" Bulma playfully asked, letting her hand lightly roam over his naked chest.

"Well, I don't."

"Why not?"

"Because these things are draining my ki."

"So? It's not permanent. Your ki will bounce back when I take the handcuffs off. You don't need your ki right now, do you?"

Vegeta's mouth drew into a stubborn line. His ki was his power, what he cherished the most. Without it, he was defenseless. Perhaps feeling the tension in his body, Bulma removed her hand from him. He scowled at the loss of contact, but then felt some of her wavy hair on his chin and neck as she leaned down by his ear.

"Do you trust me, Vegeta?" Bulma whispered.

All of a sudden, they weren't talking about sex anymore. Her question went deeper, and he didn't have to see her eyes to know that. He could hear it in her voice. The tension in Vegeta's body disappeared, especially when he realized he didn't even have to think of the answer. He had never trusted anyone; sometimes, he didn't even trust himself. But with this woman…somewhere along the line, he'd grown to trust her completely. The prince hesitated a second, before nodding once and saying the words he never thought he'd say.

"Yes…I trust you."

Bulma's lips were then on his own, rewarding him for his answer, and he instinctively opened his mouth to welcome in her warm tongue. He could practically feel her happiness melting into the kiss, and it made pride rush through his chest. His heartbeat picked up a little when he felt her slowly straddle his stomach without breaking their passionate kiss. He groaned against her mouth when he realized she wasn't wearing underwear. The fact that he couldn't see anything was only heightening the experience, sharpening his nerves and making him grow harder by the second. Bulma breathlessly broke their kiss, ran both hands up his firm chest, and then adjusted his blindfold.

"Well then, looks like we can have some fun," she whispered haughtily. "If you think you can handle it, that is."

"Hn. Do your worst, little female," Vegeta challenged with masculine poise, his voice dripping with authority, power, and control. Bulma could practically hear him thinking about what he would do to her as soon as he was freed. But for now, the ball was in her court, and she was going to enjoy this.

"Be careful, lover. I might just have you screaming my name before we're done here," the heiress playfully warned, smoothly sliding down, letting her naked body teasingly rub against his until he couldn't feel her anymore. He unconsciously pulled a little against the handcuffs, growling when he did.

That growl turned into a gasp when he suddenly felt something hot and creamy being poured on his stomach. His muscles all flexed, and it took a moment for him to register the smell.

"What the hell are you doing, woman?" he rasped, raising his head and trying hard to see through his blindfold to no avail.

"I'm hungry," Bulma responded seductively. "It's almost time for breakfast."

"…_Chocolate? _You can't be serious._" _

Bulma shrugged, outlining every dip and curve of his muscled abs and chest with a hot stream of chocolate as she licked her lips. "I told you, Vegeta. Chocolate is better than sex…but some days, a girl just wants both. And I _always _get what I want," she informed him smugly.

Vegeta snorted at the absurdity of mixing food with sex. "Chocolate is bad for breakfast, female."

"I like all kinds of bad things for breakfast."

He choked on his response when Bulma slowly started to lick the chocolate off his stomach, taking her sweet time as she feasted on him. The prince forced himself to stay still and silent, biting his lip so hard that blood ran down his chin. She was just moving _so damn slowly_, at times opening her mouth and grazing his skin with her teeth, nipping at him and making him twitch every time. Vegeta couldn't bite back his moan when he felt her bare breasts tickling his skin, teasing him. He was so hard it was painful.

And then just like that, all contact with her stopped. Vegeta was out of breath as he raised his head. He could sense her there with him, but he had no idea what she was doing. His wrists were hurting from how hard he was pulling against the handcuffs. His face was reddened with desire, and it was all Bulma could do not to climb on top of him right that second and give them both what they wanted.

"See, and you thought this wouldn't be fun," she whispered, and Vegeta bit his lip harder when he felt the rush of air from her breath right over his straining erection. "I told you, it's best to just give into what I want."

"Goddamn tease," Vegeta hissed through his teeth. "Get on with it already!"

"Patience is a virtue, my prince."

"Hn. According to some wench I once had sex with, I'm far from virtuous."

Bulma turned her head to look back at him, barely catching the smile spreading over his face before he rested his head back again. She couldn't help but smile back.

"Sounds like that girl was awfully smart, since she was right," she teased. "I bet she was gorgeous too."

"She was dece-"

Vegeta's words broke into a strangled groan as he felt that hot liquid being poured right on his already hot arousal, setting him completely on fire. His back arched as Bulma wrapped her hand around him, stroking him and covering him in the melted chocolate. He was panting through his nose, trying to maintain control while she expertly worked him the way she knew he liked. Rough and hard.

When Bulma finally ran her tongue slowly up the length of him, licking up the hot chocolate, his eyes rolled back behind his blindfold and his iron tight hold on his control started to crumble. The taste of blood was thick in his mouth as she slowed down the pace, alternating between her hand and her mouth. Sometimes using both. Sometimes teasing him with her teeth. He never even noticed when she removed her mouth from him and took care of him with her hand for a short while.

Until Bulma's mouth was back on him, suddenly cold after she had some ice cream. Vegeta cursed furiously in a language she didn't understand, throwing his head back as she worked him rougher and faster. Being restrained and not being able to see was intensifying every sensation until he felt completely overwhelmed. He tried hard to hold out, but he couldn't as he tried pushing himself closer to her. His release came and it was intense as he surrendered his body to her with an animalistic cry of hot pleasure.

Bulma looked like she had just tripled her fortune as she cleaned him moments later with a warm, damp washcloth. Vegeta hadn't so much as flinched, still in a lusty haze and breathing heavily, and it made her grin as she wondered if he was even still awake. When she was done, Bulma crawled up to him and tugged his blindfold up so it was on his forehead. Vegeta's eyes were half-lidded as he looked up at her while she gently cradled his jaw in her hand.

They stared at each other for a moment, making eye contact and studying each other. His features were still a little flushed from sexual satisfaction, and it made him look even more handsome than usual. It was wild to think that she hadn't immediately noticed how attractive he was on Namek. Instead, she had thought Zarbon attractive. How ludicrous. She almost laughed at the thought.

"Man," Bulma finally said, breaking their comfortable silence. "I should have chocolate for breakfast more often."

"Bulma."

"Yeah?"

_Marry me. _Two simple words, right on the tip of his tongue. No question - just a simple, blunt order. Vegeta opened his mouth, hesitated a second, and then changed his mind. Now wasn't a good time, not when he was handcuffed and smelling like chocolate. And so, just like all the previous times that urge had bubbled up to say those words over the last month, Vegeta found a reason to force it back down. There would always be time later, he figured.

"Vegeta?" Bulma asked, forcing her voice to remain strong. Even when she had him handcuffed and naked in front of her, Vegeta's intense, unwavering gaze still made her feel like blushing. Finally, his dark eyes blazed with challenge.

"Is that all you've got, wench?" the prince mockingly asked, throwing her words back in her face.

Bulma's blue eyes darkened, and her grip tightened hard on his jaw. Vegeta smirked a little, amused at how easy it was to ruffle her feathers. Bulma Briefs could never let such a blatant challenge slide. And no one appreciated that characteristic more than the Prince of all Saiyans. The heiress then released her hold on his jaw and reached up to his blindfold, tugging it back down over his eyes.

"I'm not done with you yet, Vegeta," Bulma deviously informed him, sounding an awful lot like an enemy on the battlefield, taunting him. His smirk spread with anticipation.

"Like I said, woman. Do your worst."

* * *

Hours later, a freshly showered and highly satiated Vegeta walked down the stairs. He and Bulma had both gotten their fill of each other, and then some. He had slept for a short while after she left to recharge a bit, but now it was time to eat. And he had worked up quite an appetite.

The prince paused on his way to the kitchen, looking at the scene in the living room. There was his almost two-year-old son, sitting on the carpet and laughing hysterically. Across from Trunks was five-month-old Goten. Goten was laying on his back, kicking his feet up into the air and grabbing onto his toes, which Trunks found hilarious for some reason. Sitting on the sofa and watching them with a bright smile and an unread magazine in her lap was Bunny.

Trunks clapped, as though encouraging the younger boy, and Vegeta's lip twitched. Goten looked _exactly _like his father down to that ridiculous hair, and it deeply bothered Vegeta that they were already getting close. The prince had seen enough; he would have to nip this in the bud right now while they were just cubs.

"Trunks!" Vegeta barked, startling everyone in the room. "Come here, boy."

Trunks obediently scurried up to his feet and came running towards his father. Goten cried out in frustration over not being fast enough as he rolled over onto his stomach, pushing himself up into a crawling position.

"Good morning, Vegeta!" Bunny brightly greeted him. "Are you hungry? I bet you are, huh?" she added in a voice that made the prince give her a look of confusion. She had seen the goodies Bulma had brought back into the kitchen that morning, and the way her daughter's features were heated in a sex after glow. She giggled, already knowing what was what, and pleased that her daughter had made such a great catch.

"Yes, I am. So go make yourself useful," the prince finally ordered, gesturing with his head towards the kitchen.

"I'll be right back then. I'll go warm you up some breakfast I made earlier. Besides, it seems to me that you have a little audience!" Bunny said in delight as she left the living room.

Vegeta looked back down to the little boys in front of him. Trunks was smiling up at him adoringly, and Goten was crawling over next to his future best friend. The baby looked up at Vegeta curiously while he sucked on a pacifier, and Trunks pointed down at him.

"Dada! Is baby!" Trunks happily informed his father. He looked Goten and yelled down at him, "HI BABY!"

"No. He's not. He's a dog and you will cease your association with him at once. Am I clear?" Vegeta demanded.

Trunks' blue eyes widened in shock over his father's words. He blinked down at Goten, and then looked back up at his father. "No baby? Is bow wow?"

"Yes."

"No. Is baby!" Trunks adamantly shot back, his young features settling into rigid determination. Vegeta's eyes narrowed. The boy couldn't even form a coherent sentence and he was already arguing with him. This did not bode well for the future - or for the chances that his son would live long enough to form real sentences.

"No. He's a worthless dog, just like his worthless father. You are my heir, and you will not-"

"Vegeta, honey, we have scrambled eggs and over easy eggs. Which would you like? Or would you like me to make you something else?" Bunny happily called out from the kitchen.

Vegeta clenched his teeth in anger over being interrupted, before barking out, "Over easy!"

He then turned back to the boys in front of him and easily picked up Trunks, tossing the boy onto one shoulder like he was a weightless sack. The prince then angrily stalked away, planning on going upstairs and dumping the boy in his crib. It would be both a punishment for talking back to him, and also a way to separate him from Kakarot's boy.

Goten saw what was happening, and his pacifier fell to the carpet before he burst into tears. Trunks struggled to squirm and kick his way back down to the floor, and he couldn't break Vegeta's hard grip. When he heard Goten start to cry, he also burst into tears. Vegeta froze as both boys started bawling, and he looked back over at Goten who he had left alone.

"Vegeta! Your breakfast is ready!"

Vegeta hesitated momentarily, before changing directions and walking back towards the kitchen, grumbling curses under his breath. When he walked past Goten, he unceremoniously dropped Trunks so the older boy landed right next to him. Trunks landed sitting down, and he sniffed a little, before he and Goten looked at each other curiously through teary eyes. Trunks then smiled and playfully launched himself against Goten, tackling the baby roughly to the floor. He would have probably killed a human baby, but Goten just laughed in delight over the horseplay. Vegeta heard them in the kitchen, and he rolled his eyes as he sat down heavily at the breakfast table. At least they had both shut up.

Meanwhile, downstairs in her office, Bulma was on her laptop, scrolling through her emails. She was jotting down a to-do list for the day, when her office phone started to ring. Without even looking up, she mechanically reached for it, cradling the handle against her cheek.

"Bulma Briefs, Capsule Corp, how can I help you?" she asked, frowning at the long list of things that needed to get done before the end of business. It was looking to be a long day.

Her head suddenly snapped up, her blue eyes widening in shock when she heard the words on the other line. Her pen dropped from her hand, and she was barely able to stammer a weak-sounding, "Yes. I am the lead on that project…"

Ten minutes later, Bulma was off the phone. The beautiful heiress was sitting in her seat, numbly blinking at her laptop screen. She was going over the words again and again in her mind, mulling them, feeling them out, until it finally sank in.

And then she screamed.

Two seconds later, Vegeta violently kicked the door open to her office. Behind him, a gush of wind blew over papers as engineers and scientists tried to recover from the tornado that seemingly swept up into the hallway. He paid that no mind; he had heard her scream and had reacted without thought or hesitation, and now here he was, surveying her office for some kind of threat. But Bulma was there alone. She was at her desk with her hands covering her face, and he could smell her tears in the air as she desperately struggled not to cry.

"Bulma?" Vegeta asked in alarm, closing the distance between them with quick strides. He spun her chair so she was facing him and then knelt down in front of her, examining her to see if she was injured. "What's wrong? Did someone hurt you?"

As though finally realizing that Vegeta was there, Bulma lowered her hands and looked at him with tears in her eyes. And then much to his surprise, she gave him the biggest smile he'd ever seen from her.

"Oh Vegeta," she breathed, suddenly throwing her arms around the confused Saiyan's neck, hugging him tightly. He leaned into her, one hand on her back as she happily sobbed, "I just won a Nobel Prize!"

"And…that's bad…?" Vegeta awkwardly ventured, completely bewildered. Screaming was bad, unless it was in the bedroom. Tears were bad. Bulma never teared up unless it was bad. This must have been bad. "Because if it is, I can kill whoever is trying to give it to you."

"No, it's good! It's SO good! Oh my god, Vegeta, I really won a Nobel Prize! I did it!" she yelled happily, even though he smelled more tears. She hugged him tighter, and then pulled back from him. The heiress was practically radiant as she took his face in her hands, thrilled that the man she loved was the first person she was sharing the news with. "I love you so much!"

Vegeta blinked at her, stunned beyond all thought. Bulma gave him no time to even start to come up with a response before she pulled him into a deep, consuming kiss. He could practically taste how happy she was. She was crying tears of happiness? The concept didn't exist in his world. Tears were from pain, emotional or physical. They were a weakness he tried to avoid at all costs. But this woman was happy and crying, and that made no sense to him. The only logical conclusion was that she was clearly insane.

Not that it stopped him from reciprocating. The prince leaned up, bracing himself on the arm rests of her wheeled chair while they continued their passionate kiss. She grabbed the belt on his jeans, tugging him closer. He was gently nudging her legs apart while she slid her hands underneath his dress shirt, when they heard someone give an uncomfortable "ahem" at the doorway. Vegeta and Bulma pulled apart instantly, seeing Dr. Briefs at the door.

"Sorry to interrupt," Dr. Briefs said as he chuckled. "But I have some good news to share with you, Bulma."

"I already heard!" Bulma happily said, brushing at her eyes. She stood up and turned to Vegeta, who looked extremely uncomfortable that her father had walked in on them. She briefly interlaced their fingers together, giving him a squeeze of thanks and a smile, before she headed over to her father.

"You can tell the team," Dr. Briefs told her, unable to keep his pride at bay. Bulma nodded and eagerly ran off to do just that. He then looked back at the Saiyan left in Bulma's office. "Would you like to tag along, son? We'll probably order some food and celebrate a little bit today."

Vegeta looked back at Dr. Briefs and frowned. He was silent for a moment, and then they both heard delighted screaming from down the hall. The prince's frown deepened.

"No," he finally answered. "But I would like a word with you in private, old man."

"Sure. Just let me set up everything for the day. I'll be with you in about twenty minutes."

Dr. Briefs gave him another nod, and then strolled off at his leisurely pace, leaving Vegeta alone. The prince stood there for a while, and then he sat down at Bulma's desk. His lip curled back in disgust at the messy disorder on her desk, before his sight settled on a picture frame on her desk. He blinked at it in shock, and then snatched it up to peer closer at it. That was _him _in the picture, in bed with Trunks on his back. They were both sound asleep. Vegeta stared at the picture hard, trying to remember when it could have been taken, but he was drawing a blank.

Twenty minutes later, Vegeta put the picture frame back on Bulma's desk and got up. He wandered out of the office, and it was like he wandered into a party. Everyone was happy, laughing, and hugging over whatever this new accomplishment was. Not knowing what else to do, the prince followed Bulma's ki, rounding a corner and avoiding all contact with anyone else. She finally came into his view, talking to the man he had nearly strangled to death once, Richard. He was wearing a jacket with a bag slung over his shoulder, clearly just having arrived to work.

Vegeta watched as Bulma excitedly shared the news, and then the man's face completely lit up in shock. He then dropped his bag on the floor and grabbed Bulma, lifting her off her feet into a tight hug, a hug that she readily returned with bright laughter. The prince crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his shoulder against the wall, watching from a distance. Once upon a time, he would've ripped Richard's head off for daring to touch _his _woman. But he would never do such a thing again. He had promised her that much.

The prince was too busy admiring how happy Bulma was, and how mesmerizing it made her look, to notice the old man that had snuck up behind him. Dr. Briefs peeked around Vegeta and chuckled when he saw his daughter talking excitedly with her research team.

"Bulma worked hard for this. She deserves it."

Vegeta didn't miss a beat, "What is a Nobel Prize?"

"It's the highest distinction we can achieve. Bulma broke through with her team and found a solution to an aerodynamics problem that had never been solved using very sophisticated physics. Now they're being recognized for their work."

"Hn."

"It's a remarkable feat." When Dr. Briefs got no response, he ventured, "So you wanted to talk? I have to touch up some work on a new spaceship. We can be alone there, if you'd like."

Vegeta turned around and nodded. He then followed the old scientist closely, staying right on his heels and taking in his surroundings. He didn't come down to Bulma's workplace often, mostly because he didn't understand a fraction of the things that were going on. He liked to think that he was an intelligent man – he enjoyed reading, and he knew basic math and science, especially physics. And he'd seen and used his share of sophisticated technology in space. But venturing down into Capsule Corp made him feel like he was a lost child wandering in a fancy toy store, not knowing what anything was. He marveled at the fancy prototypes of vehicles he'd never even imagined levitating behind thick glass windows. Dr. Briefs snuck him a look and smiled at the look of wonder on the younger man's face.

"This way, my boy," Dr. Briefs said, leading the prince into a lab that was cluttered.

"So you're the reason the woman is a slob. You passed the gene down to her," Vegeta said in disgust, following the scientist into a large spaceship prototype.

"I might have." Dr. Briefs looked over to Vegeta, who had started to prowl the spaceship. This was something the prince knew a thing or two about, and he stopped at the control panel, looking down and studying it. "You recognize it?" the scientist ventured, slowly sitting down on the floor in front of a mess of electrical boards and wiring.

"Should I?"

"It's an extension of the space capsule that you left Earth with. Only this one is faster and can fly longer with less fuel. And it's far more comfortable than the model you used."

"Hn."

"So," Dr. Briefs casually prompted, raising his glasses and picking up a board to set on his lap. "You wanted to talk."

Vegeta's shoulders stiffened. "You thought I wanted to leave? Is that why you brought me here?"

"I brought you here because I'm working in here for the day. Why? Do you want to leave again?"

"No."

"Then what is it, son?"

The prince stared down at the control panel for a few minutes, struggling with his pride as he debated whether or not he should just go back upstairs. Dr. Briefs didn't push, preoccupied with his own work. Finally, Vegeta turned around to face the old man. The simple truth was that he had no other man he felt comfortable talking to about this. Maybe Krillin – but only if he got completely drunk again.

"So…I was thinking about what you told me a while back…"

"When are you going to ask her?"

Vegeta grit his teeth together. "I am not going to _ask_."

"You're going to order her to marry you?" Dr. Briefs chuckled. "Well, that's not very romantic."

"I don't care about that bullshit."

"Then what's holding you back?"

"What makes you think anything is holding me back?" Vegeta growled, angrily crossing his arms over his chest.

"Believe it or not, son, I was a young man once too, just like you. I can recognize hesitation in a young man when I see it. I had it too before I settled down."

The prince frowned. He watched how deftly Dr. Briefs rewired the electrical board he was working on. The man was slow but flawless in his work, only bested by his daughter. Vegeta struggled with an answer, before relenting, "Marriage…is a human commitment."

"And you're not human."

Vegeta nodded. "Right."

"But you're thinking about it anyways, otherwise we wouldn't be having this conversation." Dr. Briefs peeked up at the prince. Vegeta was leaning back against the control panel with both hands against it, staring down at the floor with indecision written all over his features. Dr. Briefs looked back at his work and ventured, "Do you love her?"

Vegeta's response was immediate. "No."

"No?"

"Love is a weakness. I have that emotion for no one."

"No one? Not even Trunks?"

"My duty is to protect him and raise him to be a strong warrior. Nothing more," Vegeta asserted. Dr. Briefs chuckled, and the prince fiercely demanded, "And just _what _is so funny?"

"A father's role is much more than that, Vegeta. But I don't expect you to understand that when your boy is still so young. That's a lesson a man can only learn in time."

Vegeta's eyebrows drew together rigidly. "This isn't about Trunks, old man. This is about Bulma."

"Ah yes. Well, if you don't love her, why are you going to marry her?"

"So she'll belong to me permanently."

"Marriage isn't about possession."

The prince inwardly groaned in disgust. "Spare me the possession speech," he sneered. "I've already heard it enough from the woman."

"And so we're back to my original question. What is holding you back?" Dr. Briefs drawled, tugging absently on his moustache with one hand while he raised a yellow wire with his other hand to inspect it. "Hm, this ought to do it…" he quietly said. He looked up at the prince when he got no response, and chuckled. "Son, there is no rush. If you're not ready, then you're not ready. You'll know when you're ready. But when you _do_ decide to ask her-"

"I'm not going to ask," Vegeta roughly interrupted.

"Ah, yes, yes, that's right. Well, when you decide to order her into a marriage, remember to give her a ring."

The prince looked completely disgusted. He had thought long and hard about the ring, but it was off the table now. "Look. I'm a man. I'm not buying women's jewelry."

"Trust me on this, son. If you don't offer my daughter a ring, she'll force you to accompany her into shopping for one. And knowing Bulma, you'll visit every jewelry store in West City before she makes a decision."

"…Fuck. I need a ring."

"Not to worry, my boy. Bulma's mother and I already bought you one," Dr. Briefs casually said, much to the Saiyan's shock. "It's in the china cabinet, in the cup on the top shelf."

"You old, scheming bastard," Vegeta marveled.

"Don't look at me. It was my wife's idea."

"Which reminds me. How the hell did an intelligent man like yourself marry such a dimwitted wench?"

"Watch how you talk about my wife, boy," Dr. Briefs warned, peering at the Saiyan over his thick glasses. Vegeta smirked a little in amusement as the old scientist added, "She was there before the fame and the money. She supported me, even when others thought my inventions were crazy."

"Your inventions _are _crazy, old man. Impressive, but crazy."

Dr. Briefs smiled. "Yes, I suppose they are."

Vegeta hesitated a second, frowning in thought. He then pushed himself off the control panel. "I'm going to train. I've wasted enough time today."

"Get something to eat before you do."

The prince nodded and left. He had a lot to think about.

* * *

Later that night, Bulma was still on cloud nine. She had worked so hard for so many years, and had won every award imaginable – except for the elusive Nobel Prize. It was the ultimate prize and satisfaction, further strengthening her reputation as the most intelligent woman on the planet. She was walking with renewed confidence, and she spent almost the entire day with her staff. Sometimes it was good to take a step back and look over everything, and see how far one had come. And that's what she did with her coworkers, taking breaks only to spend time with her precious little boy and his new best friend. She also wouldn't have minded seeing her prince again, but Vegeta was locked up in his gravity room every time she came out.

"Your Mommy's a genius, baby boy," the heiress happily told Trunks later that night while she changed his diaper before she laid him down for the night. "And your Daddy is the best fighter on the planet. Which means that you are going to be brilliant and powerful. And handsome too, just like Daddy! You'll have the whole package-"

"Mama, loud," Trunks told her with a scowl, before covering his little ears with both hands with determination. Bulma gaped down at him.

"What?"

"Mama, loud!" the little boy repeated.

"Well, that's not very nice, Trunks Briefs," Bulma huffed, finishing with putting a fresh diaper on him. "Mommy's not loud. Mommy's just happy."

Trunks blinked and removed his hands from his ears. "Happy?"

"Yes. I'm very happy."

"Twunks happy!" he brightly said, before scrambling up on his changing table so he was standing on it. He then clutched Bulma tightly around her neck in a hug. She smiled and hugged him back. Her achievement today had been one she'd been waiting to accomplish for years, but there was nothing in the world like getting a hug from her little boy.

"So long as you're happy, Trunks, that's all that really matters," she genuinely said, kissing his cheek while she rubbed his back. All the while though, she wondered just how her little toddler had learned to say that someone was being too loud. She only needed one guess…

After laying Trunks down for the night, Bulma tried getting some sleep. But she was still too wired from the day, and sleep was impossible. After tossing and turning for almost two hours, she finally got up and went looking for Vegeta. It was always a daunting challenge to force the Saiyan to stop his training before he was ready to do so, but she had about a fifty percent success rate. Tonight though, she wasn't tired and she wanted his company. She was happy, and the only person she wanted to share her happiness with right now was Vegeta.

She finally found him outside in the yard, outside of the gravity chamber. The prince was laying on his back in the grass, one arm folded behind his head, his other hand resting on his stomach. He was still dressed in his clothes from earlier, meaning he hadn't trained at all. Bulma crossed the yard, and then slowly sat down next to him. His dark eyes shifted over to her questioningly, and she gave him a warm smile.

"Big day for you with that award."

"It was. This is a pretty big recognition for me."

He nodded once, and then looked back up at the sky. "I heard only the best receive it. Well done, woman."

Bulma's heart swelled as pride filled her chest. She had been congratulated so many times that day, but hearing Vegeta acknowledge her award trumped them all. "Thank you, Vegeta. That means a lot."

He didn't respond. She stretched out her legs a little, and followed his line of sight to the stars in the night sky. The heiress looked back down at him, and she frowned a little when she saw that brooding expression on his face.

"You okay?"

Vegeta nodded, and offered nothing more. Bulma laid down next to him on her back, and they settled into a comfortable silence, staring up at the stars. Both of their eyes were locked on the same patch of night sky, where a light used to shine. Bulma snuck a look over at him. She had noticed that he liked to stargaze quite a bit, and she wondered if his thoughts always went back to his home planet. Ever since the night of Krillin's bachelor party, she hadn't quite looked at the stars the same way.

Reaching her arm out, Bulma's hand settled on Vegeta's. She tugged it off his stomach, setting their hands on the grass and interlacing their fingers together. He gently returned her grip as Bulma looked back up at the stars.

"So. Who taught Trunks how to tell someone that they're being too loud?" she jokingly asked, trying to bring his thoughts away from whatever was weighing heavily on his mind.

"Why, did he tell you that you were being too loud?"

"He did!"

Vegeta couldn't help his proud smirk. "That's my son."

"Ugh. One of you is enough. I don't want two Vegeta's. Let's try to have him be a little more polite."

"I don't like him associating with that idiot spawn of Kakarot. That boy will melt Trunks' brain and ruin his potential."

"Vegeta, Goten is just a baby," Bulma laughed.

"I don't like it."

"But Trunks needs someone his age to play with, someone who can keep up with his strength. He's too strong for other kids his age, and he's too shy to play with older kids."

"I suppose," he grumbled.

"The boys will be best friends. Everyone needs a best friend."

Vegeta fell into silence, and Bulma did too. They stayed in the grass for a long time, with Bulma's thoughts eventually wandering to her work day tomorrow. She closed her eyes, enjoying the perfect night, when Vegeta cut into it.

"I want you to teach Trunks everything you know. Physics, math, engineering, everything. I want him to know all of it, and I want it to come from you. I learned from my mother, and I want him to learn from his too."

"I will. I promise," Bulma whispered, well aware of how his grip on her hand had tightened. She waited a moment before asking, "What was she like?"

It was almost five minutes later before Vegeta slowly exhaled. "She was one of the good ones. We called them _pure hearts_. She was a good queen and a good mother. She was patient with me, though I do remember her yanking on my tail a few times. I was…a bit of a handful. A cocky, smart-mouthed little brat," he chuckled.

"I'm somehow not surprised," she teased him, making him roll his eyes. Bulma moved closer to him, never breaking the hold between their interlocked hands. "I'm just kidding. She sounds lovely, Vegeta."

"Hn."

"Do you think…" Bulma started, before nervously sucking at her teeth a little. "Do you think she would have liked me?"

Vegeta shrugged. "Probably."

"Really?"

"Well, you are the closest thing in the universe to a full-blooded female Saiyan. And she would be _extremely_ impressed with your fancy Nimble Prize or whatever the hell it's called," he teasingly added, making Bulma hit him on the chest, which in turn made him laugh out loud.

"You ass, don't mock my Nobel Prize!" Bulma jokingly chastised. Vegeta suddenly grabbed her wrists and hauled her on top of him. Startled, the heiress quickly steadied herself on his chest, and then looked down at him in surprise. They held eye contact, and she held her breath at the suddenly serious way he was looking at her.

"You can't scream like that, woman."

Bulma blinked at him, and then tilted her head in confusion. "What? What do you mean?"

"You can't scream like a goddamn banshee the way you did today. I thought something bad had happened. If someone had been standing close to you, I would have killed them without question."

"I worried you," she realized. "That's why you came."

"I told you that you would always be safe with me nearby. Did you think I was joking?"

"No, no, I didn't. I just…I'm sorry, I didn't think you would even hear me. I won't do it again, but you also have to at least take a second to see what's going on. Don't just come in killing people. That would kill the good mood," she joked, kissing him lightly on the lips.

"Fine," he relented, before scowling in displeasure as Bulma got off him. He followed her lead as they got back up to their feet.

"Let's go to bed. I'm exhausted," Bulma yawned.

"Do I have to sleep with those damn cuffs on?"

"You really did sleep a lot better after I put them on, Vegeta. Try them tonight and we'll see how it goes. I promise I won't blindfold you and link the cuffs together again in your sleep…unless you want me to," she added, raising an eyebrow flirtatiously.

"Selfish female. Next time, it's my turn," Vegeta informed her, giving her body a slow, intense once over that made Bulma lose her breath with anticipation. "It seems to me that you need to be reminded exactly who is in charge here."

"Do your worst, Prince Vegeta," Bulma confidently replied, tossing her hair over her shoulder and heading inside. Vegeta was right behind her the whole way, chuckling darkly over how he was going to repay the favor from this morning. He paused though when they walked past a cupboard filled with expensive china. Bulma stopped at the stairs, looking back at him. "Aren't you coming up?"

"I'll be there soon."

Bulma shrugged, thinking none of it as she headed upstairs, eager to climb into her warm bed. Vegeta pretended to head to the kitchen, but once he sensed her going to their bedroom, he came back over to the cupboard. He quietly opened it, and then levitated up into the air to peer down at the top shelf. There was the small cup, and inside was definitely something. Vegeta gently lifted the cup up, and then poured out its contents into his palm. Out fell a ring.

He lifted it up and examined it. It was silver or platinum, he wasn't sure what, with a fancy design and a blue diamond on it. The blue matched her eyes, and he immediately liked it. Very quietly, he put the cup back in its exact location and closed the cupboard, descending back to the floor. He twirled the ring between two fingers.

_You'll know when you're ready. _

He wasn't sure when that time would come, but when it did, he would be sure to be prepared.


	15. Telling the truth

Bulma was well-prepared for technical aspect of her ground-breaking research. What she hadn't counted on, though, was the media storm that ensued and all the logistics that had to be taken care of.

For nearly a month after the day she found out she had received her coveted Nobel Prize, her world had consisted of radio and television appearances, endless interviews, and triple her ordinary workload. It made her want to curl up in bed and just come out when it was time for the award banquet. She made time for Trunks only by shortchanging herself on sleep, and her time with Vegeta had taken quite a hit as a result. Fortunately, the prince never pressed for more of her time. She was grateful for that – the time she spent at work had always been a point of contention with Yamcha, and not having that stress in her relationship with Vegeta was a relief.

There was only one day left now before the award banquet, where she would give a presentation on her research. Everything was going to start dying down soon, and life was going to go back to normal.

Or so she thought.

"In the end, it's your choice," Dr. Briefs said while Bulma stared at him. Next to her desk was Trunks, sitting on the floor and scowling as he played with a set of colored, wooden blocks. The heiress glanced over at the little boy while her father added, "Think about it and let me know. If you want to go ahead and do it, then we'll get things started after the banquet."

"Well, _of course _I want to be president, Dad," Bulma sighed, absently clicking a pen repeatedly in her right hand as her mind raced. "But Trunks is still little…"

"I know. If you want to wait until the boy is bigger, that's fine too. Just think about it. Your mother and I are leaving to finish the arrangements for the banquet tomorrow. Since it's a bit of a haul, we'll be staying at the hotel across the street from the convention center. Are you going to be ready?"

"Of course I'll be ready. I just have to give a couple of short interviews today and finish up this presentation."

"And Vegeta is going with you tomorrow?"

Bulma rolled her eyes, waving a hand in dismissal. "He said no before I could even finish asking him. Heaven forbid he ever go to something even remotely social, he'd probably melt. But Yamcha and Krillin are going to come, so I'll have a little support."

"Hmmm, I see," Dr. Briefs thoughtfully murmured, scratching his cat behind its ear while he awkwardly pulled on his moustache. "Well, maybe you can ask the boy again tonight."

"Dad, Vegeta gets mad when I ask him the same thing over and over again, and I really don't feel like fighting with him right now. It's fine, Yamcha and Krillin will come, and my best man will be there too. Won't you, baby boy? You'll come support Mommy?" she happily asked the toddler that was now standing in front of her. Trunks had a deep scowl on his young face as he looked up at his mother, before showing her his mismatched blocks. She picked him up and sat him down on her lap, and the little boy immediately spread out his blocks on her desk.

"Alright. Then I'll see you tomorrow at the banquet."

"Definitely, I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Think about what we talked about."

"I will," Bulma affirmed, sloppily scribbling on a pink sticky note the words, "president of CC?" and then sticking the note to the edge of her laptop. It was the latest note out of about twenty other colorful notes. Dr. Briefs scratched his head a little, but Bulma was giving Trunks her complete attention, and so the old scientist shrugged and turned around and left.

"No, Mama," Trunks whined when Bulma tried helping him stack his blocks.

"But that's how you have to stack them, baby. The biggest ones on the bottom. It makes the system secure and less resistant to disturbances, like a gust of wind, or someone storming into Mommy's office."

"No!"

"Alright, you can try them the other way then," Bulma relented when her office phone started ringing. She reached over to answer the phone right as one of her engineers poked his head in.

"Ms. Briefs?" the young man asked. "We have a problem in lab 3b. One of the junior techs crossed some wires, and-"

"Hold on, one second, Tom," Bulma signaled to him, wrapping one arm securely around Trunks' midsection while she balanced the phone on her ear. "Hello? Yes, this is she. Yes, right, that interview was scheduled for 4pm today, right? I still need the number-"

"Woman!" Vegeta's rough voice startled everyone as he began stalking the underground hallways of Capsule Corp.

"Tom, could you tell Vegeta to just give me a minute?" Bulma asked her engineer in exasperation, completely missing the look of terror that flashed over his features at the request as she turned her attention back to her phone conversation. She frowned as she reached around Trunks and his blocks to her laptop. "Oh, you emailed me the phone number? Really? I didn't get anything-"

"Um…" her engineer nervously said, trying to slink away. "I'm not sure how comfortable I am with telling Mr. Vegeta to wait-"

Just then, Trunks' blocks all fell over and he gave a yell of anger and frustration. The toddler then swiped furiously at his blocks with one swing of his little arm, sending them all flying off Bulma's desk and crashing against the wall, with some of them landing hard against the laptop.

"_Trunks!_ Don't do that!"

The little boy flinched, and then looked over at his mother. His eyes then watered, and he covered his face with his hands as he let out a long sobbing wail. Bulma's temper disappeared, and she hugged her son close to her.

"Oh honey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," she sighed. Rubbing his arm in comfort, she spoke into the phone again, "Listen, now's not a good time. Can you please resend the email? I'll call when it's time for the interview. Thank you."

"What the hell is going on in here?" Vegeta's gruff voice sounded out while Bulma hung up. The prince was standing at the doorway to Bulma's office, and he turned his steely gaze to the employee cowering next to him, and his eyes narrowed. "Who the fuck are you?" he demanded.

"…no one…" came the terrified answer, before the engineer scurried away.

"Papa!" Trunks happily shouted, his tears forgotten. He squirmed out of Bulma's grasp until he could stand on the floor, and then ran over to his father.

"Papa? Since when does he call you that?" Bulma asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Since your braindead mother suggested it three weeks ago," Vegeta answered, exhaling through his nose in frustration when his son clung tightly to his leg.

"Three weeks ago!" Bulma exclaimed, blinking in surprise. "Are you serious?"

"Why the hell would I lie to you?" Vegeta sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. He remained perfectly still, even though Trunks was busy trying to climb him like he was a tree. "Now listen, Kakarot's harpy of a wife is here, and she's brought the little Kakarot clone. She said that you and our son were going to accompany them on a trip to some location known as the zoo today."

"Oh, shit," Bulma groaned, rubbing her forehead with one hand. Looking over at her laptop filled with sticky notes on the edges, she saw the note about going to the zoo with Chi-Chi and the boys.

"I take that to mean you're not going," Vegeta commented dryly, making no attempt to shake off Trunks who was now hanging off his forearm with both hands.

"I thought I'd have more free time, but I'm still swamped with work," Bulma sighed, shaking her head. "Alright, I'll be up in a bit to tell her."

"Fine," Vegeta gruffly answered, scowling angrily when Trunks finally managed to climb up onto his shoulders. The little boy sat down so he was straddling the back of Vegeta's neck, and then gripped tight handfuls of his father's hair to maintain his balance, giggling in delight the whole time. Vegeta looked extremely annoyed, but he didn't remove Trunks, which made Bulma smile.

"Was that all you needed, Vegeta?" Bulma asked, plucking all her notes off her laptop to write them down in a more organized fashion. The last thing she needed was for something else to fall through the cracks.

Vegeta stared at her while she wrote. He put both of his hands into his pant pockets, the fingers on his right hand playing absentmindedly with the ring in his pocket. He twirled it between his fingers, hardly aware of Trunks playing with his hair. He was as ready as he was ever going to be for this marriage thing. But how to ask? When to ask? He hadn't given these things any thought, until he heard Bulma on the phone with Chi-Chi a week ago, discussing Krillin's proposal. It had been quite a romantic endeavor, and it had taken all his discipline not to fly over to Krillin and beat the midget to a bloodied pulp because of that.

"No, it's not all I needed," Vegeta answered, clutching the ring tightly in his pocket. "I know you've been preoccupied lately, but I need a minute when you have one."

"I have a minute right now," Bulma said, biting her lip as she scrolled through her laptop, her blue eyes locked on the screen. "So shoot. What is it?"

Vegeta shifted uncomfortably. What to say? He tried thinking of something, but then frowned in confusion and looked off to the side as he sniffed. "What the hell is that?"

"What's what?"

"I smell fire."

Bulma's head snapped up. "What?"

"Fire. Down the hall," Vegeta answered, and then immediately backed up as Bulma shot out of the office with speed that shocked him. Moments later, he heard her screeching-

"_WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED IN HERE!"_

"Let me tell you something about being a warrior, son," Vegeta grumbled. Trunks put both of his little hands on the sides of his father's face, and rested his chin on top of the prince's head. "Part of it is knowing how to choose your battles. And when your mother gets that pitch in her voice, you just want to live and fight another day-"

"Blocks! My blocks!" Trunks cried, looking over his shoulder at the blocks he left scattered by his mother's desk. The boy then scrambled up his father so he was standing on his shoulders, and leapt down to the floor, landing in a crouch with perfect balance. Vegeta raised an eyebrow in intrigue as he watched the little boy dash over to his blocks and scoop them all up.

The prince let his son walk out first, and steered the boy the direction to take him back upstairs while following close behind him. On the way, Vegeta stole a look over his shoulder towards Bulma.

Fight another day was right.

* * *

Finally. She had settled everything down at work for a little while, and now she had time to spend with Trunks and Vegeta. Bulma was inadvertently channeling her mother's fluttery energy as she moved about the kitchen preparing dinner. There were pots overflowing as she tried keeping everything under control. Trunks was bawling loudly in his high chair as Bulma checked a pot.

"Damn it. What is wrong with me? I've made dinner before," Bulma grumbled, adjusted the temperature on the stove. She then spun back to Trunks and walked up to his high chair, looking at the little boy as she picked up his discarded bib. "Sweetie, you have to keep your bib on."

"No!" Trunks cried. He then hurled his sippy cup across the kitchen with frightening strength, and it would have surely broken another window had it not been caught at the last instant by his father. Vegeta had just been coming inside when he snatched the cup out of the air. The prince then raised an eyebrow while he scanned the kitchen. He sniffed once and frowned as his eyes settled on Bulma.

"You're making dinner tonight?" he asked, tossing the sippy cup back to Trunks. It was too fast for Bulma to follow, but Trunks caught the cup again with both hands and scowled down at it while he sniffed.

"Yeah," Bulma answered, trying again to put Trunks' bib back on. The small boy immediately started struggling against it as he once again burst into tears. "Trunks, what is wrong? You like these bibs!"

"Woman, the brat hates those things."

"What do you mean?" Bulma asked in surprise, looking over at the prince. He was bent at the waist, his upper body hidden by the fridge door that he had opened. "He's always liked these bibs because they're so colorful. And what are you looking for? I'm making us dinner over here!"

"He likes the cotton ones better. And it smells like you're about to burn the damn place down," Vegeta snorted, closing the fridge door and approaching the pots. "What exactly were you trying to make here, female? Trying to boil a dead animal?"

"You know what, your highness?" Bulma snapped, turning around to face him. "If you think you can do it better, then why don't you do make dinner then? Instead of just criticizing, maybe you could actually help me out for once! What do you think about that?"

Vegeta stared at her in blank surprise for a few seconds, before his look turned into annoyance. He turned back to the pot. "What the hell is _your _problem? You're the one trying to poison me and my son with this shit you call food-"

"Fine, you know what, forget it then. Turn everything off. I'll order us some pizza, alright?" Bulma finally said in exasperation, throwing her hands up in defeat. "And if I'm smelling what I'm smelling, then _someone_ needs a diaper change," she playfully informed her son.

"You don't have to change that boy."

"I know you smelled that too, Vegeta. Don't tell me he doesn't need to be changed."

"He doesn't. He's clean. When he has to go, he will inform you that he has to go."

"But we only started potty training him, what, like two months ago?"

"I took over his bowel training over the last three weeks, since you were preoccupied and your mother was sitting him on the toilet so he could piss. _Sitting him on the goddamned toilet_," he scoffed, shaking his head at the memory._ "_I couldn't have that. My son is a man, and he will piss like a man. So, I trained him personally. It only took three weeks, though he's not trained for the evenings yet, which is likely why you haven't noticed." Vegeta then sat down at the table, waiting for the thanks to come his way.

"Oh," Bulma absently said, pulling the front of Trunks' shorts out enough to see what he was wearing underneath. She blinked in surprise. Sure enough, there was no diaper there. She recognized what was in its place immediately. "Wow. Boxer briefs? Trunks is wearing boxer briefs?"

"Your mother said that is what men wear on your planet. It's time to get him accustomed to it."

Bulma frowned and pulled out Trunks' shorts from the back just to make sure, and aside from the smell, he was clean. She let his shorts go and sighed, rubbing the little boy's back. Vegeta scowled while he watched them both. He had expected her to be pleased with his accomplishment, perhaps even proud of him for actually doing something with Trunks and teaching him a new skill. And so he didn't understand why she looked disappointed. The prince leaned back, brow furrowing.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I should order those pizzas. I know you're both hungry," Bulma replied, turning around and letting her blue hair down.

Vegeta stayed silent while she disappeared to look for her phone, and then he pulled out the ring from his pocket. He spun it, watching as it rotated on the table. It was a habit he had fallen into. Today seemed like as good a day as any to propose, but maybe it wasn't. She didn't seem to be in the best of moods, and he couldn't help but wonder why. It was annoying that she wouldn't tell him what was wrong. Was this how she felt when he shut her out?

The prince slammed his hand down on the ring, forcing it to stop spinning. Trunks gave a "hmph" of discontent at that, having been thoroughly entertained watching the shiny ring spinning on the table. Vegeta looked over at him, only to find Trunks angrily crossing his arms over his chest.

"Hn. Got all that damn temper from your mother," Vegeta sneered. "I'm the only sane one in this household, it appears."

"Mine! My wing!" Trunks shouted, stretching his arms out to grab the shiny object his father was hiding. Vegeta's eyes widened enormously at his son's words, but he didn't have time to comment before Bulma was entering the kitchen again.

"Well, it should be here in about half an hour," she informed them, her eyes glued to her cell phone as she checked her work email. "What did Trunks just ask for-?"

"Nothing," Vegeta immediately interrupted, suddenly right in Bulma's face before she could see him move. The heiress looked at him in surprise as Vegeta passed an even glare over to the little boy a few feet away. "Isn't that right, son? You just want pizza, don't you?"

"YEAH!" Trunks yelled happily, already distracted. He clapped as he chanted, "Twunks wants pizza, Twunks wants pizza-"

"I'm going to shower," Vegeta said, certain now that his son wasn't going to spoil the secret. He went to leave, when Bulma grabbed his arm, putting her other hand on the center of his chest. Her touch was light, but he froze anyways, staring into her eyes. Neither of them noticed that Trunks was staring at them in fascination.

"I'm sorry." Bulma took a deep breath. "I appreciate what you did with Trunks. I'm sorry I didn't say that sooner. I was just, a little caught off guard-"

"It's fine."

"Well, I've been logging a lot of lab hours, and I know I haven't been here enough as I should. With Trunks. With you-"

"Woman. It's fine," Vegeta roughly interrupted.

"Yeah, but it's been weeks-"

"Since what? Since we had sex? I'll have you know that I've gone a hell of a lot longer than weeks. Besides. You said your work pace would be back down to normal after tomorrow, correct?"

"…Yeah, it'll be back to normal soon," Bulma nodded, making Vegeta scowl as she avoided eye contact with him. She pulled her hands away from him and settled her gaze on the stove. "Well, I'll throw out this mess then before the pizza gets here while you go shower."

"Right," Vegeta answered. He hesitated, and then turned around and walked away. He would get the answers he wanted soon enough.

* * *

A few hours later, Vegeta was in the bathroom in his bedroom, glaring at his reflection. Anyone looking at him would have thought he was getting ready for an intense battle. And maybe he was. He was going to wage a battle, and he never lost battles. Well, unless he was battling another full-blooded Saiyan named Kakarot, he bitterly amended to himself. But that was beside the point. Tonight was the night. But what to say?

Romantic. He could try to be romantic. How fucking hard could it be?

"Listen, woman," he growled. "We already have a brat together. What the hell would the difference be anyways if we got married?"

That was bad. He couldn't do romantic after all. He would be a laughingstock between Bulma, Chi-Chi, Bulma's mother, and whatever other females were around if he tried. Clearing his throat, he started again.

"Look. You don't like me killing anyone. And if a man makes too much of a move on you, I will kill them. Putting the damn ring on would deter that, so just put it on."

A little bit of back and forth, insecure pacing ensued. He tried to convince himself that it was the wording that was wrong, not the fact that she might very well balk at the idea altogether. He knew she wanted to get married, but he didn't know if she wanted to get married to _him. _

"You're being absurd," he snapped at himself as his pacing increased. "You're a prince. Any female across all the galaxies would be privileged to be in this woman's position. Be a man and take charge-!"

He forced his words down when he sensed Bulma quietly entering their bedroom. Turning in the direction of Trunks' bedroom, he reached out to his son and felt that the boy was asleep.

"Vegeta?" she worriedly called out. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!"

"Oh, I just could've sworn I heard you talking-"

"I said I'm FINE!"

"Alright, fine! Man, what a hothead," Bulma mumbled, turning on the baby monitor. "No wonder Trunks has a temper. He gets it from his father."

"I _heard_ that, stupid woman!"

"Good, cause it's true!"

Both of them grumbled to themselves under their breaths for a few seconds, unaware that the other was doing the same thing. Bulma set her alarm to give her four hours sleep. She had a busy day coming up and she needed to get in early to finish her work before Trunks woke up. But before she did, she needed to have a smoke to unwind.

Vegeta finally stepped out of the bathroom five minutes later, a man on a mission. That mission suddenly was put on the backburner when he smelled something burning. Alarmed, the prince immediately prowled the bedroom, and then stepped out onto the balcony where Bulma was. His concern disappeared when he realized that the thing in between her fingers was the thing burning.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, startling Bulma who had been lost in thought. She was sitting on the balcony rail in her usual robe, her back to him. She absently showed him her cigarette.

"Old habit. Just needed something so I could relax."

A second later, it was removed from her fingers. Bulma looked over her shoulder at the man standing right behind her while he raised the cigarette to sniff it.

"If this is an old habit, then how come this is the first time I'm seeing you do this?" Vegeta asked, studying the cigarette in curiosity. He'd seen it a few times in movies, and had smelled something similar when speaking to her father.

"Because, you give me your own kind of stress relief, so I haven't needed to," Bulma joked.

Vegeta took a slow draw of the cigarette, and then exhaled, watching the smoke in the air. He looked back down at the white roll, and frowned. It didn't make him feel any different. The prince then dropped the cigarette and put it out with his bare foot. Turning his attention back to the woman in front of him, he ventured again, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing-"

Bulma yelped when she was suddenly spun around. Now she was facing Vegeta, who looked on the borderline of serious anger.

"No. I'm _done_ hearing that shit. You want me to be more open with you? Then I expect the same in return. Now, tomorrow is supposed to be a good day for you, and you should be extremely annoying with your happiness right now. But you're not, and I demand to know why."

Bulma stared at him, and Vegeta couldn't get a read on what she was thinking. After a moment, she sighed and put her hands by his ribs, tugging his black tank until he stepped closer to her.

"You're right."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow and mockingly asked, "Come again? You might want to repeat those words, as they are so rare coming from you."

"Jerk." Bulma chuckled as her eyes brightened. Vegeta was closer now, and so she rested her hands on his chest. He held her hips, keeping her secure on the balcony rail.

"So?"

"It's really not that big a deal. I'm just overthinking things."

He rolled his eyes. "Spare me the damn suspense and just talk, woman."

"My dad talked to me today."

Vegeta forced himself not to react. If Bulma noticed additional tension in his body, she didn't comment on it. In his mind though, he was imagining torturous ways to murder her father if the old bastard had told Bulma what his plans were. He should have known better than to trust the old man, walking around with a random cat on his shoulder all the time, doing weird shit with his wife.

"…What about?"

"He thinks I'm ready to be president of Capsule Corp."

"Hn," Vegeta grunted indifferently, hiding the relief he felt. "And?"

"He thought I was ready years ago. He offered me the job back then, not long after you left. But then, I found out I was pregnant, and I said no. I said I would take it when Trunks was around two."

"And the boy's second birthday is in ten days."

She smiled. "You remembered the date."

"I need time to prepare for the hell you have in store for me this time around," he whispered teasingly in her ear, making her laugh. He didn't know why, but it felt so completely satisfying when she laughed over something he said. Almost felt as good as landing a hard hit in battle. "So what's the problem? I assume you're going to take it."

"I don't know. I said that I would take it back then, but that was before Trunks was even born. I do want the position, and I _am_ ready to handle it, but…"

"But?"

"The work wouldn't let up. It would be like it is now, you know."

"Everyone would adapt. You want the position and you say you're ready for it. So take it."

"But I haven't been spending enough time with Trunks-"

"The boy will get used to it-"

"Vegeta, you're not understanding me," Bulma sighed. He drew back so they could make eye contact, his eyebrows drawing together. "Trunks was born earlier than expected. He was so little, that it made me paranoid. For a long time, it was only me. My mom helped when she could, and Yamcha helped me a lot too, but believe me. I was doing everything with Trunks." Vegeta looked away, staring off to the side while she continued, "Had the playpen in my office, had a sling to carry him with me everywhere. It was easy because Trunks was little. I didn't need help. I could take care of him, and do my job pretty damn well at the same time.

"But now, it's not the same. Now every time I see him, he's saying something new, liking something else, calling you something different. Now for all intents and purposes, he's practically out of diapers!"

"I thought that was a good thing…?"

"It's a great thing, and I'm happy that you did that. I just wish I had been there to help you. I feel like I missed out, and if I take this job, who knows what else I'll miss out on, you know?"

"Then it seems to me you already know what answer to give your father."

"I know. I just wish I could have more hours in the day so I could do it all. Be a good mom, have the job I want, have _you_ whenever I want-"

"Now you're just being spoiled and greedy," Vegeta chuckled, leaning his nose and mouth close to her neck before straightening to look her in the eye. "Have patience, woman. It's only a matter of time before the job is yours. For now, it's not important. The boy is."

"I know…" She smiled a little, moving her hands to his shoulders. "I'm sorry. I know you didn't want to hear all of that-"

"You deal with my shit," Vegeta said with an indifferent shrug. "So I deal with yours."

"You know, that's oddly charming," she laughed.

"If you want to see charming, I can show you charming," he suggestively whispered, leaning closer to her lips. Bulma's eyes skirted over to their bedroom, to the baby monitor. Content to see that Trunks was still asleep, she turned back to her prince and loosely wrapped her arms around Vegeta's neck.

"Well, I could spare a little time out of my four hours of sleep. That's what coffee is for anyways, right?" she asked him teasingly.

That was enough of an invitation. He leaned forward, kissing her deeply while moving his hands to her back. Bulma sighed, moving her hands to the sides of his face. Vegeta easily lifted her off the rail, and she wrapped her legs around his waist while he carried her back inside.

They collapsed together onto their bed moments later, breaking their kiss only for Bulma to urgently pull his tank top off over his head. Vegeta immediately helped her discard her robe, tossing it to the floor and leaving her in her bra. She pulled him back into another kiss, but he resisted at the last moment.

"What?" Bulma breathlessly asked, their lips only inches apart. Vegeta was leaning over her, staring down at her with an expression that she couldn't read. After a moment of awkward silence, Bulma gave him a look of confusion. "Is something wrong?"

"No. Nothing is wrong." He regarded her for a moment longer, before his eyes darted to the side, and he cursed under his breath. "I got you something. Wait here. I have to find it."

"Um, okay…" Bulma said with a few blinks as he got out of bed. She looked over at the time while he disappeared into their closet.

It took minutes of rummaging around, until he finally found the ring. He then turned off the light in the closet and walked back into the bedroom.

"Alright. Look. I've been…" Vegeta paused, and then blinked. "Bulma?"

"Yeah. I'm awake. I'm ready," she answered in a tired voice that told him she was none of the above.

Vegeta quietly got back into bed, took one look at her, and knew that it wasn't going to happen tonight. She was already drifting off to sleep. He reached down and put the ring into his shorts pocket while he settled in next to her, laying on his back. The prince cursed in frustration while he glared at the ceiling. He then looked back at her, watching her sleep for a few minutes. He contemplated waking her up, but decided against it. She looked far too tired, and far too peaceful. The thought of disturbing that kind of slumber didn't feel right to him.

Instead, he turned towards her, moving as close as he could. Vegeta hesitated for a second while they were lying face to face, before gently putting his arm around her waist. Bulma instinctively sought him out, settling her head under his chin while he held her close to him.

"I'm sorry. I'm so tired," she mumbled against his skin.

"It's fine. Just sleep."

"Will you please come with me tomorrow, Vegeta?" she whispered. "It's important to me-"

"Yes, fine, now shut up and go to sleep already," the prince grumbled. He hadn't been there for her or Trunks when they both needed him in the beginning, as she had inadvertently reminded him. He figured the least he could do was show up and make an appearance at an event that mattered to her.

Vegeta laid there wide awake for a while, listening to the breathing of the woman with him. He almost never held her like this, but Bulma was asleep and wouldn't remember it anyways, making it acceptable for the time being. Nonetheless, it amazed him that she could sleep so well in his arms. She drew comfort from him just like Trunks did. Like he was someone good and honorable instead of the man he actually was. It was insane, and combined, they were both going to be the death of him.

But for once, he didn't completely mind the thought.

* * *

"You have _got _to be kidding me," Bulma said in exasperation into her phone. Trunks was sitting in front of her on the back of the sofa, looking perplexed while his mother tied something weird around his neck. "A stomachache, seriously? You know what, it's fine. I'll cover it in the presentation. Yes, I got this," Bulma answered with confidence, expertly tying the blue necktie for Trunks while he scowled at it in confusion. "I know all the points he was going to cover anyways. It'll be fine, Richard. You'll see. Listen, I'll call you when I leave. Okay, bye."

The heiress hung up, and then smoothed out Trunks' expensive suit. She gave him a bright smile. "Wow, kiddo, look at you! You're going to be a sexy beast when you're older, huh?"

"Hmph." Trunks pouted, and raised his tie so Bulma would remove it.

"It's okay, baby, it's just something to make you look nice. See?" Bulma said soothingly, fixing his tie again. "Won't bother you at all."

She then scooped Trunks up, holding him against her with one arm. With her free hand, she grabbed the cell phone off the sofa that was ringing. "Hello? What do you _mean_, you're lost? I installed a GPS in your car, Yamcha! Well where are you?"

Bulma walked into her bedroom a moment later, and was surprised to see Vegeta there. The prince was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in a casual blue polo shirt and black jeans. He was tying his black boots when he glanced up at her as she walked in. She gave him a look of confusion, and then lowered Trunks to the floor.

"Papa!" Trunks yelled, running over to his father. He dove onto the bed next to Vegeta, and then sat down right next to him. Vegeta gave his son a look of bewilderment over what he was wearing.

"Yes, that's the street name…oh good, you see it? Great! I'll see you there."

Bulma hung up her phone a second later, and then tilted her head while she regarded Vegeta. The prince scowled while they silently studied each other.

"What?" Vegeta finally snapped. "You're the one who asked me to attend this stupid thing."

"I did?" Bulma asked, blinking in surprise. Her brain hadn't retained that exhausted request, but she quickly feigned realization anyways, "Oh that's right, I did! Great, I'm so happy that you're going to come, Vegeta! But you can't wear that, it's way too casual. You have to wear a suit like Trunks, so start undressing," she ordered, before disappearing into their closet.

"Wha-" Vegeta blinked, before his face reddened. "No. I absolutely refuse to wear something like that. As a matter of fact, my son won't wear that either. Come take it off him at once!"

"But that's what men wear to look nice!" Bulma excitedly called out, while articles of clothing flew out of the closet as she tossed them over her shoulder.

"If you had told me that this was a requirement, I would've stayed in the goddamned gravity room. Besides, I don't even own any clothing like that!"

"Oh yes you do!" Bulma announced, emerging from the closet holding what looked like a charcoal suit jacket with matching colored dress pants, wrapped in plastic. She smiled as she hung it up close to the closet door. "I got this for you when I wasn't sure you were coming to Krillin's wedding, as a 'just in case'. Just pick out one of your dress shirts and tuck it into your pants. And wear the jacket over it. There are black dress shoes you can wear up on the top shelf, same size as your boots."

"How long is this thing going to be anyways?" Vegeta demanded as he stood up and walked over to the closet to investigate, with Trunks on his heels the whole way.

"You don't have to stay the whole time, Vegeta. I know you don't like these things, so you can leave whenever you want. But it means a lot that you'll be there, even for a little while," Bulma told him, giving him a smile that made him look away.

"Hn. I won't stay long. I just want to see what all this commotion over this damn prize is about," Vegeta gruffly informed her with indifference.

"You'll see, don't worry. Okay, I have to get ready. Please don't let Trunks get his clothes wrinkled, okay?"

Vegeta and Trunks both blinked as the heiress dashed into the bathroom with renewed vigor. Trunks then looked up at his father in confusion, but Vegeta just scowled down at him.

"Don't look at me. She's _your _mother," Vegeta sneered, starting to loosen the belt on his pants to get undressed.

Instinctively, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the diamond ring he'd been carrying for a while now, careful to shield it from his son. The little boy was too busy trying to climb up the clothes that were hanging in the closet to notice. Vegeta put the ring aside on a small table next to the closet, where it blended with a mess of electronics Bulma had left there. Today wasn't a good day. She had a million things going on, and the last thing she needed was a mindless distraction. Tomorrow, he decided as he started to strip down. He would do it tomorrow.

Twenty minutes later, Bulma emerged from the bathroom, certain that she had set a new record on how quickly she could get ready. Her hair and makeup were done to perfection, and she had finally settled on a dark blue dress shirt with a professional but stylish light gray jacket over it. She was adjusting her matching skirt as Trunks ran up to her.

"Mama, pwitty!" he informed her with a bright smile.

"Aw, thank you, sweetie," Bulma smiled down at him as Vegeta turned around to face her. She glanced up, did a double take, and breathed out, "Oh, wow."

Vegeta frowned as he self-consciously dusted himself off while she stared at him, even though everything he had on was clean. He had chosen a white, collared dress shirt, and it looked wonderful against his tanned skin. His charcoal suit was fitted to his body perfectly. She had never seen him in anything except casual wear and his armor, and seeing him dressed like this was a sight.

"Papa, pwitty!" Trunks yelled out happily, unfazed by the glare he received from his father.

"Call me _pretty _again and you won't last to see your second birthday, boy," Vegeta growled, shifting his gaze to his son's mother. When she didn't say anything and he couldn't read her stare, he shot out, "Look. This was your goddamned idea, so if you don't like what I'm wearing, then-"

"No. I love it," Bulma dreamily said. "You look amazing, Vegeta."

"…well of course I do. Why wouldn't I?" Vegeta scoffed arrogantly, turning around and pretending to adjust his cuffs to cover his embarrassment. Bulma barely noticed as her phone rang again, and she dashed to answer it.

"Yamcha, hey, did you find the place?" Bulma asked, cradling her phone against her ear while she scooped up Trunks into her arms. "Oh good! How many people are there? _How many? _Holy crap! Yeah, we're leaving soon. Alright, I'll see you there." She hung up, and then went over to the door to head out. The heiress turned back though when she realized Vegeta wasn't following her.

"Hey you, hurry up or we're leaving you behind," Bulma teasingly called back to him.

Vegeta scowled. "I'm not going with you."

"What?" Bulma blinked in confusion. "But, I thought you said-"

"I don't give a shit about everyone else that's there, and I'm not going to sit and 'socialize' with your idiot friends. I only want to hear what _you_ have to say. So what time are _you _going to speak?"

"Oh. Well, I'm scheduled to start at 6 tonight."

"In two hours then."

"Mmm, maybe five or seven minutes later. I know the people running the logistics of this event, and ugh, always running late," Bulma said in disgust. "If you make a schedule, you have to stick to the freaking schedule."

Vegeta smirked. "Says the woman who makes a schedule with a disaster of colorful notes on her desk, thus making you forget everything you've planned."

"…shut up," Bulma huffed, turning around and carrying Trunks out of the room.

Vegeta heard Trunks immediately start changing "shut up", though it only lasted a few times before Bulma nipped it in the bud. The prince snorted in amusement, and then slipped off his jacket. He went to the closet to hang it back up – it would literally take him seconds to redress, track Bulma, and show up to wherever she was going.

Just enough time to get some good training in.

* * *

"How come we gotta sit back here?" Yamcha whined while he held Trunks on his lap. He was having a hard time keeping the little boy from grabbing everything that was on the table. It was a table reserved for Bulma's parents and friends, though her parents were mingling at other tables, leaving him to fend alone with Trunks. "I won't be able to hear anything from here!"

"Maybe you will if you'd quit checking your phone every five seconds," Krillin chuckled.

"Hey. Just because _you're _married now doesn't mean I can't have my fun."

Krillin grinned as he dug his fork into mashed potatoes. "Well I'll give you this much. You have a point about the seating. We should be sitting up close, since we helped save the world and all. But nooo. That doesn't matter around here."

"Didn't you hear? That Satan guy apparently beat Cell," Yamcha scoffed. "Trunks could beat that guy up, couldn't you, little man?"

"I think the waiters here could beat that guy up," Krillin grumbled, before looking back up at his friend. "Didn't Bulma say Vegeta was supposed to show up?"

"Krillin, he's _Vegeta. _What do you expect?" Yamcha said as he shook his head, raising a glass of water. "Bulma could do better if she wanted to. I bet he's never even told her that he loves her."

"18 still hasn't told me that she loves me, and we're married."

Yamcha spit out his water, drawing the attention of surrounding tables when he awkwardly turned so he wouldn't spray Trunks.

"Eww! Yuck!" Trunks shouted as Yamcha snorted and coughed. Krillin immediately got up and plucked the little boy out of his friend's lap.

"There there. Yamcha's just being silly," Krillin happily told Trunks as he took his seat again.

"Sorry!" Yamcha choked out, brushing the water off his face. He then turned to Krillin with disbelief. "Dude! She hasn't told you that she _loves _you and she married you? That's just weird."

"She doesn't have to say it if I know it. People like Android 18 and Vegeta, you gotta ride it out and be patient with those things."

"Oh yeah? Then why isn't he here when Bulma's expecting him?"

Krillin went to answer, but the answer came immediately when they both felt Vegeta's unique energy signal nearby. They both looked over, only to find the well-dressed prince there in the back of the large convention hall. He was leaned back against the entrance, quietly staying out of everyone's way. Vegeta's dark eyes settled briefly on their table, and as though sensing that, Trunks instantly perked up and looked around. Catching sight of his father, the little boy squealed happily and squirmed down to the floor. Krillin stood up to get him, but stopped when he saw him running straight for his father. Krillin sat down after a moment, and looked over at Yamcha.

"You were saying?" Krillin prompted with a smug look.

"Shut up," Yamcha grumbled, sneaking Vegeta a glance. The prince had his arms crossed over his chest, leaning back against the wall. He didn't acknowledge Trunks, but the little boy matched his position perfectly as he leaned against the wall next to Vegeta. "I wonder how much he heard?"

"Probably not much. Seems like he just got here-"

They both hushed when the lights dimmed a little, unaware that the prince had been in the back for a while, remaining inconspicuous. He had indeed heard their conversation, and had finally raised his ki in warning when he heard enough. He listened in boredom as a well-dressed young man welcomed everyone.

Finally, Bulma was introduced to a round of applause. Though he didn't join in the clapping, Vegeta's hardened expression softened a subtle amount when she took stage. She was radiant and beautiful, mostly because she was beaming. Then she began to speak, with pure confidence as she started introducing her research.

Vegeta was trying to pay attention to her when he felt a tug on his pants. He finally looked down at his happy son, who pointed to Bulma.

"Mama!" he whispered excitedly.

"Yes, that's her. This is important, so be quiet now, boy."

Trunks raised his index finger to his lips. "Shhh."

Vegeta nodded, and turned his attention back to Bulma while Trunks leaned against his legs. She had a laser pointer while she started working through her presentation, and he focused on understanding it. He understood very little and was soon lost, and so his attention was diverted to the crowd. It was clear to him that everyone in attendance held the utmost respect for her knowledge.

It suddenly dawned then on Vegeta, while he watched Bulma give her presentation, how fortunate he was. Every available man in the room was looking at the beautiful heiress as though she was the perfect woman. Bulma was like a queen on this planet, a woman who could literally have any man she wanted, just like he heard Yamcha say moments ago.

And yet, he was the man who shared her bed at night. She had her picks, and she had chosen him. It wasn't about possession at all. It was about something else entirely. He wasn't sure what, but he knew now what he had to do.

He was ready.

Bulma eventually finished her presentation and thanked the audience for listening. A loud round of applause rang out through the convention hall, with Yamcha and Krillin hollering with no shame from the back, much to the chagrin of Dr. Briefs who was sitting with them. Bunny was there as well, and clapped along with Trunks, who was now in her lap. Bulma laughed as she heard them, and then stepped back to let someone else speak. She had a mic clipped on her suit jacket, and she removed it and snuck off stage as soon as the moment was appropriate. Her presentation had lasted almost two hours, and she needed some water for her throat.

Bulma snuck around the back, going into a lobby. There were some refreshments there on a table, much to her relief. She was about to pour herself a cup of water, when a hand suddenly landed on her arm, yanking her into a small, empty conference room. Bulma opened her mouth to scream, but then her eyes settled on a very familiar Saiyan, and her scream was forgotten.

"What the _hell_, Vegeta?" Bulma demanded, putting a hand over her heart. "I thought you were some criminal about to abduct me-!"

"Shut up," Vegeta roughly interrupted, beginning to pace back and forth. "I need to say this. So just shut the hell up and listen to me."

"Erm…okay," Bulma relented, looking at him in confusion and concern. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. No. Whatever. Just listen."

Vegeta forced himself to stop his pacing, and gather his thoughts while he stared at the floor. Finally, the prince turned to face her directly, stepping closer to her until he was within arm's reach.

"…I'm not good at this. I've been thinking a lot about what to say to you. What you would want to hear. But I'm not…good, at this. I can't tell you those kinds of things. It's not me. The only thing I can tell you is the truth. And the truth is that you changed my life. We could both live ten lifetimes, and you will never understand how much you changed my life…" He took a deep breath, not wanting his mind to go back there, and then forced himself to make eye contact with the woman there with him.

"I used to kill anyone who looked at me the wrong way. No questions asked. Never trusted anyone. Never let anyone in. But you…I don't know how you did it, but you got under my skin, and I hated you for that. I thought you were making me weak, but that's not true. You don't make me weak. You make me better. You make me _want_ to be better…I asked you once, what you wanted from me. You said whatever I was willing to give. I didn't know what that was at the time, but now I do."

Bulma forced herself to breathe when he reached inside his jacket, and this time, he pulled out a diamond ring. Her eyes started to tear up, and she covered her mouth with her hands as Vegeta extended it to her.

"I'm giving you, me. From now until the day I die, on my family's honor, you'll always have me. Marry me, Bulma Briefs."

"Yes! Oh my god, yes, I'll marry you!" Bulma cried in sheer joy, launching herself happily into his arms.

Vegeta grunted in surprise from how hard she flew into him as she hugged him tightly and chanted an incoherent mixture of "yes!", "I love you so much!", and "I'll marry you!". Stunned, the prince just stood there for a moment, before sighing and hugging her in return. Bulma pulled back from him, and she smiled at him through her tears. A brilliant smile for him, and him alone. Her happiness was practically infectious, and for once, he didn't fight it as he smiled back.

And it felt pretty damn good.


	16. XOXO

A month later, Vegeta was sprawled out on his stomach in bed, the ki-draining cuffs on his wrists to help him sleep better. Though he had his eyes closed, he was wide awake, as was the woman in bed with him. Bulma was currently resting her head on his warm back, her arm around his waist as they laid together in silence. He already knew that she had something to say, and so he was just waiting for her to get on with it.

"I don't think this is going to work out," Bulma finally whispered against his back. Vegeta didn't move or respond, but she knew he was alert. When his silence stretched on, the heiress sighed, her breath cool on his bare skin. "Maybe we made a mistake."

"You already started the process, woman," Vegeta finally replied in a terse voice. "It's too late. You cannot back out now."

"But Vegeta, it's past 11pm, and he's still wide awake," Bulma protested, her eyes locked on the video monitor that was next to their bed that showed their son.

"Perhaps the boy would actually fall asleep if you had not placed a hidden camera in his quarters to stare at him. It's a disturbing practice."

"Um, excuse me! I just want to make sure my son doesn't fall off his new toddler bed!" Bulma peevishly snapped. Vegeta snorted, inwardly rolling his eyes. Trunks' agility, balance, and strength was increasing rapidly, so much that the two-year-old boy could leap off the top of the roof of Capsule Corp down to the grass without any problems at all. And here the woman was, worried about the boy falling from the grand height of one foot.

Of course, the heiress had no idea that Vegeta allowed Trunks to jump off the roof. So he wisely remained silent as Bulma continued, "Besides. He can't even see the camera because I covered the light, like I did with the sound monitor. He's awake because he's not used to that bed."

Vegeta slowly opened his eyes, and looked towards the video monitor that the heiress was staring at. Trunks was sitting upright in his brand new toddler bed that his grandparents had gotten him for his second birthday. It had a rail so normal human children wouldn't fall off the bed, but the rail was useless with Trunks, who had kicked it clear off the bed the first time Bulma tried laying him down in the bed for a nap. But since Trunks had mastered escaping his crib, no matter how Bulma tried to design it, the only option she saw was to get him used to the toddler bed.

This was night two of the transition, and it was not going well. The little boy was clutching a stuffed bear tightly with one hand, sucking his thumb with the other. His blue eyes wide and alert, he looked like he had zero intention of falling asleep any time soon.

Vegeta glared at his son through the monitor. All the prince wanted was some rest from the whirlwind of wedding planning madness that was all the rage at Capsule Corp. And with the heiress suddenly cutting their sex life to nothing over the last few weeks in an effort to make their wedding night a night to remember (in retrospect, telling her that he could go a lengthy period of time without sex was a bad idea), all he wanted to do was sleep. But with Trunks laying down and sitting back up every twenty minutes, there was no way Bulma was falling asleep. And if she wasn't falling asleep, then unfortunately, neither was he.

"I think we're going to have to put his crib back in his room."

"Like hell you will. You leave that bed in there, so the boy can learn to sleep like a man."

"But Trunks is just a baby. He needs to sleep, Vegeta."

"You coddle him far too much, woman. My son will survive one night without his ridiculous cage."

"Maybe the rain is keeping him up," Bulma reasoned out loud, glancing over through the curtains where she could still see rain coming down. "Hopefully it doesn't get worse. Those thunderstorms always scare him."

Vegeta scoffed in disgust. "The brat is fortunate for your presence. If I was the only one in charge of him, he would be out in the wilderness right now, right in that rain."

"And what, you would be nice and toasty inside the warm house while your baby was freezing outside in the cold rain?"

"Damn right."

"That's very evil of you, Vegeta."

She could hear the smirk in his voice when he replied, "Thank you."

Bulma laughed, lifting her head up and giving him a quick kiss under his jaw. Lightning flashed and thunder rolled outside, and on cue, Trunks whimpered on the monitor. His parents were watching as he quickly scrambled under his Batman blankets. After a few seconds, thunder sounded out again, and this time Bulma and Vegeta both heard Trunks release a wailing sob.

"There it is," Bulma knowingly said as she withdrew from her prince, making Vegeta scowl in disapproval. He turned over on his back, adjusting the blankets to cover himself from the waist down while Bulma got out of bed.

"And just where do you think you're going?" the prince demanded, propping himself up on his elbows.

"I'm going to get the capsule with his crib, and put Trunks back in his crib. He'll fall asleep if I'm there in the room with him," Bulma answered, slipping on her robe and tying it at the front. "Maybe we'll try this transition again in a month or so."

"I don't think so," Vegeta growled. "You will leave that boy there so he can conquer his fears."

"Vegeta, Trunks isn't a man like you. He's a two year old boy, and he's scared. If he was eight or ten or something, and we still had this problem, then I'd let you handle it however you wanted. But he's still little, and he's my baby, so I'm going."

"I knew it. I knew when you stayed in Trunks' room last night that you would give up on this task," Vegeta mockingly said. "You are far too soft with the boy. Because of that, I had to take matters into my own hands."

Bulma turned back to him, surprise on her face. It quickly dissolved into suspicion as she placed her hands on her hips. Her battle stance. Vegeta smirked at the sight.

"What the hell did you do?" Bulma demanded. Vegeta chuckled as he laid back down, interlacing his fingers together behind his head.

"I found the capsule where you were keeping the boy's cage, and I destroyed it," the prince smugly informed her.

"What! What did you do that for!" Bulma yelled, wishing she had something to throw at him, especially when she saw that infuriating smirk on his face. "You saw how hard it was to design a crib for him that would accommodate his strength without hurting him, and then you went and _destroyed_ it?"

Vegeta pretended to think about it for a second, and then he nodded. "Yes. I believe that is precisely what I did."

"Damn it, Vegeta!" Bulma whined in exasperation. On the monitor, Trunks whimpered and called out loudly for her again. The heiress shot her husband-to-be a malicious glare, which he returned with something close to a smile. "Fine," Bulma huffed, turning back towards the door. "I'll just bring Trunks in here then. He can spend the night with us, so we can all get some sleep."

Vegeta suddenly sat up, his playful look gone and replaced by an angry glare of his own. That had certainly not been an option that crossed his mind. "You will do no such thing, woman. There is not enough room in this bed for the three of us."

"What in the world are you talking about? We have a king sized bed!"

"Only _one_ male sleeps in this bed, and that's _me. _You bring that boy in here, and I'm sleeping somewhere else," he threatened, thinking that would put a stop to her ridiculous plan.

Bulma turned back to him, and Vegeta swallowed a little. He didn't know what to make of that look on her face, but he didn't like it nonetheless. He started to relax though when Bulma came back over to the side of his bed, and leaned down closer to him. He relaxed completely when she smiled at him, one of her hands on his face. She mesmerized him when she did that, when she touched him and looked at him like that. Unconsciously, he leaned closer towards her, his dark eyes hungrily moving down to her lips. Bulma leaned in close to him.

"I love you," Bulma whispered, her breath on his lips. Vegeta grunted a little, his body ready for whatever she wanted to do. To his surprise though, Bulma just gave him a short peck on the lips and then pulled away. "Which is why I'm letting you know that there are clean sheets in the guest rooms. You can sleep there if you want, your highness," she informed him with a smug smile.

Vegeta blinked, and watched in stunned silence as she left their bedroom, heading over to Trunks' room. He glowered in her direction, cursing her under his breath. That had definitely not gone as he had planned. He looked back over at the video monitor when he heard Trunks give a delighted squeal. The little boy quickly stood up on his bed, raising his arms so Bulma would pick him up, which she did.

The prince sneered in disgust, and then fell back on the bed. He glared up at the ceiling, wondering whether or not to follow through with his threat. Trunks was a restless sleeper; he had seen the boy fall asleep in one position only to wake up in a complete disarray. The last thing he wanted was to be kicked in the face by his son while trying to sleep. But he had gotten used to the bed he shared with Bulma. She had made his side as firm as possible, which felt like heaven for his back. The spare bedrooms did not compare.

"You're still here?" Bulma teased when she walked back into their room, carrying Trunks in her arms. "I thought you would've already left."

"Don't look so pleased. It's still an option," Vegeta grumbled. He looked up when he felt another energy in the room, and then growled at what he saw. "Now look at what you've done, woman! You left the door open and your father's stupid cat is in our bedroom!"

"Vegeta, don't say that! You're going to hurt Scratch's feelings," Bulma chastised, letting Trunks crawl onto their bed. Reaching down, she gently petted Scratch's head. "He didn't mean it. He loves you just like everyone else in this household."

"Yes, I love the cat. It would make a good late night dinner," the prince deadpanned, lying flat on his back while he stared up at the ceiling. His eyes darted to the side when Trunks crawled up next to him. The boy's lavender hair was starting to grow into the style inherited from his grandfather. It didn't have the length yet, but it was long enough for him to have short bangs. The little boy smiled down at his father.

"Hi papa!" Trunks happily greeted.

"Hn. What the hell are you smiling about, brat?" Vegeta angrily demanded. He shoved Trunks away from him. "Stay on your mother's side of the damn bed."

"You know, if you're just going to be a jerk about this, then go sleep somewhere else," Bulma sighed while she put her robe away, before turning off the light.

Vegeta scoffed. "Don't tell me what to do, female. I do as I damn well please. This is my bedroom and if I feel like staying here, then I'll stay here, and there's not a thing you can do-_what the fuck!_" Vegeta yelled when he felt fur across his foot. He jerked his leg up and immediately sat up, his blue ki lighting up the entire bedroom as he directed it towards the black cat climbing over his legs.

"Aw, Scratch wants to join us! We can all sleep together as a family now," Bulma teased, trying not to laugh. Trunks yawned, and she pulled him close against her, his back to her chest. He snuggled back against her, closing his eyes.

Vegeta grumbled to himself under his breath that if Trunks wasn't there, the cat would be fried by now. He had done well thus far not to kill anyone or anything in front of his son, and he wanted it to stay that way for as long as possible. The prince extinguished his ki, leaving them in darkness again. He rested back, rubbed his forehead a bit, and then sighed when he felt Scratch settle down by his feet, a furry tail wrapping around his ankle.

"It's not so bad, right?" Bulma quietly asked. Vegeta looked back at her, laying on her side while facing him.

"I don't want this to become a habit," he said in a serious tone.

"It won't. This fear of his won't last. He's your son, after all."

Vegeta looked at the boy she was holding against her with a mixture of emotions in his eyes. Trunks looked so small and fragile, even though he was powerful for his age. He would grow into a strong warrior – Vegeta would see to that – but Trunks wouldn't be cold and hate-filled like him. Not with Bulma in the picture. Of the two, she would be the one to make sure their son grew into a good person. The prince was grateful for that.

"Good night, Vegeta," Bulma yawned, breaking his train of thought. She closed her eyes and tiredly added with a small smile, "I'm glad you stayed, by the way."

Vegeta looked away from them and didn't respond. But, deep down, he was glad too.

* * *

"Earth fashions are so absurd," Vegeta grumbled, glaring at his reflection in the stand-up mirror the next day. His lip curled up in disgust as he scanned over his outfit. "I look like a damn fool."

"Nonsense," Dr. Briefs said in lighthearted dismissal while he adjusted the cuff links on Vegeta's white button-down dress shirt. "You've never looked better, son. We might not need to have anything adjusted after all. Everything seems to fit you well. You'll be ready to go next week when you two make this official."

"Hn. I fail to understand why I can't simply wear the garbage I wore for the woman's award thing," Vegeta protested, tugging at the silver tie around his neck. The tie was tucked into a matching silver vest which fit him perfectly, but he was still extremely uncomfortable. The whole thing made him feel awkward. "I didn't have to wear this extra shit then, so why now?"

"Because, this is different. You're getting married. You and Bulma will be the center of attention."

"What the hell do you mean, _center of attention_?" Vegeta snarled as he spun around to face his soon to be father-in-law. "She said this ridiculous ceremony was going to be small and private! What is that wench daughter of yours planning, old man?"

"Nothing, dear boy," Dr. Briefs chuckled, not intimidated in the slightest, much to Vegeta's dismay. "To the best of my knowledge, the only ones who will be attending will be me, Bulma's mother, and Trunks of course. Maybe one or two others, but I'm not sure. You'll have to speak with Bulma about that. Now let's put the jacket on."

Vegeta studied Dr. Briefs closely, and when he was convinced that he wasn't being lied to, he turned back to the mirror. He frowned as the final piece to his outfit was put into place with Bulma's father's assistance. Smoothing the black jacket down, he looked himself over. Formal Earthling attire for a formal Earthling event. He might as well have been an Earthling – who would tell the difference, seeing him this way?

Shame suddenly overwhelmed him, and the prince turned away from his reflection. He couldn't stand the sight of himself dressed this way. This wasn't him. Reaching up, he started tugging his tie off completely when Bunny suddenly walked into the dressing room.

"I didn't know you were coming by, dear, but you must knock before entering a men's dressing room," Dr. Briefs chided light-heartedly. "Vegeta could have been undressed."

"Oh, that's quite alright! I just wanted to check up on you both and see how things were going!" She looked at Vegeta and brightened considerably, before giggling. "Oh my! What a handsome and dashing son-in-law I'm going to have!"

Vegeta rolled his eyes, not bothering to respond to her. He finally pulled the tie off completely, handing it to Dr. Briefs.

"I'm done here," he tersely said, leaving no room for argument in his voice as he started taking the jacket off. "Take all this back, old man. I will not be wearing any of it."

"Oh," Dr. Briefs said, blinking a bit. He had no chance to respond before Vegeta practically shoved the jacket into his chest.

"Before I forget, Bulma asked me to give this to you," Bunny said, handing the prince a small piece of paper just as he was starting to unbutton his vest. He frowned in confusion, took it from her, and began to read.

_To my sexy prince-_

_I was out with Chi-Chi and the boys looking at some wedding bands (since SOMEONE refuses to come with me!), and when we came home, we walked right into a small surprise engagement party thrown by our friends! I think it's so sweet that they did this for us. Even with the risk of you flying away to avoid seeing them, I wanted to give you a heads up before you came home, since I know you hate surprises. I hope you'll come though! I haven't seen you all day, and I miss that cute butt of yours. _

_XOXO_

_Bulma_

Vegeta flushed red, embarrassed with the last line in the note. He only hoped that the woman's mother hadn't read it. Then again, he didn't think she was intelligent enough to read, so he was likely in the clear. He frowned in confusion though at the way she signed the note. XOXO?

"Sockso? Zockso?" Vegeta mumbled to himself, squinting at the paper. Looking up at his future in-laws, he demanded, "How do you pronounce this word, humans? It's spelled X-O-X-O."

"You don't pronounce that, silly," Bunny tittered. "It's just how everyone signs handwritten messages!"

Vegeta grunted as he looked back down at the paper, missing the look of disapproval Dr. Briefs gave Bulma's mother. She dismissively waved off his concern, but Vegeta was already thinking of other things.

"An engagement party," Vegeta sneered in disgust, shaking his head. "Don't you humans get tired of all these fucking parties? Birthday parties, bachelor parties, parties for prizes, parties for engagements, gods above! I'm surprised you don't throw a party every time you all have a bowel movement."

"Well, we have some friends who do. Those parties are fun too!" Bunny giggled, earning a brief, horrified look from Vegeta.

"Son, did you want to look at some other styles for tuxedos?" Dr. Briefs cut in, wisely changing the subject. "Perhaps something else will interest you?"

"No," the prince gruffly answered, glancing back at the mirror briefly. "I have something else in mind."

* * *

"I can't believe you're actually marrying Vegeta."

Bulma just smiled at Chi-Chi, and raised her hand up to show off her engagement ring a little bit, before lowering her hand to beam down at it. The two women were sitting together outside in the backyard, where all their friends were gathered in the small surprise party. A huge "Congratulations Bulma and Vegeta!" banner was hanging across the back of the compound, with balloons and gifts. Trunks and Goten were chasing each other relentlessly, and the rest of the Z-gang was in the middle of a tough looking arm wrestling competition. There was food, drinks, and music. Though the prince was nowhere to be found, they were all still having a good time.

For the most part. Bulma unconsciously looked in Yamcha's direction, and as though sensing that, Yamcha glanced over at her. He nodded to her, giving her a strained smile.

"How did he take it?" Chi-Chi knowingly asked, following Bulma's line of sight.

Bulma sighed, covering her engagement ring. "He said all the right things, but you know how he is. He's transparent, at least, he is with me. I know that he's not happy about me marrying Vegeta. Thank goodness Vegeta was training Trunks when we had this conversation, or it wouldn't have been pretty."

"Yamcha is a good man. We all thought you would be marrying _him_ and having _his_ children."

"I did too," Bulma admitted, looking back towards her ex. Yamcha met her gaze again briefly before looking back towards the others. "We were on and off for so long, it's hard not to think about the future."

"Bulma, are you sure about marrying Vegeta?" Chi-Chi questioned, drawing her friend's attention. "I understand that you think he's changed now, but how much do you really know about him?"

"I know a lot about Vegeta," Bulma replied, trying not to get defensive, but that edge was leaking into her voice. "I know him better than anyone except the man himself. This isn't a mistake, if that's what you're getting at-"

"I don't think it's a _mistake,_" Chi-Chi clarified. "I just think you should be sure. Do you even know the extent of everything he's done?"

"Well…no," Bulma admitted, frowning as she looked back down to her ring. "He's given me a little here and there, but Vegeta doesn't like talking about his life before Earth. And when that man decides he's not talking about something, man, there's no force on the planet that can make him change his mind."

"Well, I just don't want you to get hurt, that's all. Saiyans, they're all the same! All they care about is fighting, eating, and, well… you know," Chi-Chi suggestively whispered, before laughing.

"I can't argue with that," Bulma laughed too.

Meanwhile, Vegeta had finally gotten back to the compound from his outing with Bulma's father. He could sense everyone out back, and he rolled his eyes. He had a headache from brooding thoughts, and he didn't feel like associating with any of them, but he had to clarify something with Bulma. Deciding to just get it out of the way, he made his way through the large compound until he finally emerged in the backyard.

Everyone was preoccupied with the arm wrestling going on, making Vegeta quirk an eyebrow at the strange competition. Currently, Android 18 was smugly dominating Yamcha, much to Krillin's amusement. Gohan caught sight of the prince and gave him a short wave, but Vegeta ignored him as he looked over and settled his sights on Bulma. He headed over in that direction, shooting looks of disgust at the balloons in the yard. He hated balloons. Such a stupid human invention.

Bulma caught sight of him, and immediately brightened. "Hey! You made it!"

Vegeta opened his mouth to reply, when his attention was suddenly diverted to the food spread. His mouth watered as the smells suddenly intensified, and without a word, he turned and headed over to get himself some of it. Bulma and Chi-Chi shot each other a knowing look, and the heiress smirked.

"Saiyans, insatiable in all three," Bulma teased, and then both women started laughing. Vegeta glanced back at them over his shoulder in confusion, frowning as he wondered just what was so funny.

"Hey, Vegeta!" Krillin shouted over to him in greeting. He was ignored as Vegeta picked up a plate.

"Vegeta! Congratulations on your engagement! When is the bachelor's party, huh, huh?" Roshi shouted soon after. He was also ignored as Vegeta scoured the wide spread of food, before fixating on a large pot with seasoned, uncooked meat, placed there just in the rest of the food ran out.

"Are we all invited to the wedding or what?" Oolong called out. He was also ignored as Vegeta tossed aside his plate, and picked up the entire pot of raw meat.

The prince then went back over to Chi-Chi and Bulma who were gossiping and laughing. He paused when Trunks dashed in front of him, the boy nearly making him lose his balance. He grit his teeth, reminded himself that killing his own son a week before his wedding would be a poor decision, and then headed over to Bulma.

"Hey there," she said, smiling at him. "Did my dad help you find a nice tux?"

"That is what I came to speak to you about. I will not be wearing one of those things. This subject is _not_ up for discussion."

Bulma's brow furrowed. "But why not? You would look so good in one!"

"I said it's not up for discussion," he repeated. "You are controlling every last detail of this stupid thing, but I am controlling what I wear, you hear me, woman?"

"Excuse me? I am not controlling every last detail! I tried getting your input for all the important decisions, but you told me to handle it! And this is not a 'stupid thing', THIS IS OUR WEDDING!" Bulma yelled, getting everyone's attention. Vegeta turned to glare at them, and they all immediately resumed their arm wrestling. The prince then turned his attention back to the matter at hand.

"Woman, stop your goddamned screeching!" he snapped, reaching up with one hand to massage one of his temples in an effort to keep his headache at bay. "Look. I will wear Saiyan attire, not human attire, and that's final. That is all I have to say."

"Well, so long as you don't just show up in your spandex shorts and gym shoes, and you have a shirt on, I think we'll be okay," Bulma huffed, leaning back in her lawn chair. The prince appeared satisfied with her answer. He then reached down into his pot, and pulled out a bloody, raw steak, missing the look of disgust on Chi-Chi and Bulma's faces. The heiress awkwardly cleared her throat as Vegeta was turning away. "Um, there is still some cooked meat, you know. We only put that pot out just in case we started running low."

"It's fine," Vegeta gruffly answered, ripping into the meat with his teeth. He chewed thoughtfully, swallowed, and then said, "This meat is clean and even seasoned. It's much better than eating from dead bodies."

He then turned around and walked away, eating the meat from the pot as easily as he was eating from a bag of potato chips. Chi-Chi gave Bulma a look, and the heiress leaned her head back, groaning a little.

"Don't even say it."

"I just think that you don't know him as well as you think you do."

"You're probably right about that," Bulma conceded more to herself than Chi-Chi, looking off towards Vegeta, who was ignoring everyone as he walked back into the compound. "But it's okay. I have a lifetime to get to know him better."

"It's hard enough making a marriage work with a man with a healthy, sane background. But making a marriage work with _that _man of yours will be hard. Are you sure you're up for it?"

Bulma smiled, brimming with self-confidence. Chi-Chi had a point. It wouldn't be easy at all. But nothing with Vegeta came easy. Everything had always been a challenge, a struggle, and now here they were. The prince had already openly said he was willing to commit to her, and that was enough for them to build something special together. They could make it work, with time and patience - mostly on her part. She was sure of it.

"You're damn right I'm up for it."

About fifteen minutes later, Vegeta had finished devouring all of the raw steaks. The pot was in one of the kitchen sinks, and the prince was in the upstairs bathroom, leafing through the medicine cabinet. He felt better after having eaten, but his headache from earlier was now bordering along a migraine. He was searching for some of that medication Bulma had once given him (he refused to ask outright for it), and then he was going to lay down for a short while so it would pass.

Vegeta suddenly stopped his rummaging, and then the muscle in his jaw twitched in irritation.

"What the hell do you want, weakling?" he demanded, closing the cabinet as he turned to face the man who was standing in the doorway of the bathroom.

"Look, Vegeta," Yamcha started, not seeing a Saiyan who vastly overpowered him and could kill him easily. He just saw the man who had the woman he still loved. Vegeta raised an eyebrow a little, the hard edge in his eyes a subtle warning for Yamcha to speak, and speak fast. Yamcha exhaled, his eyes narrowing. "I just want her to be happy. Marriage has always meant a lot to her…"

Vegeta took a few steps forward, his features intense. It took all of Yamcha's will power not to shrink back. He gulped, tense for a fight, but he didn't get one.

"You're a damn fool, coming in here like this," Vegeta said as he shook his head, suddenly looking more annoyed than anything else. "But, because you were there for her and my son when I was not, and because of your assistance when the boy snuck out of the compound…human, I will give you this _one time_ to speak freely, without fearing for your life. Say what you have to say."

"Fine," Yamcha curtly said. He took a breath, and then started rambling, "I just want to say that I'm not trying to ruin anything between you two. Bulma is happy with you, happier than she was with me, and that's fine. I'm dealing with it. But I hope that you can give her what she deserves, Vegeta. She deserves to be loved, to be shown affection, and I'm not sure you can do it. And if that's the case, maybe you should let someone else try, someone who _can _give her that."

"Someone like you, perhaps?"

"There are more men on this planet than just me and you, Vegeta."

"Uh huh," Vegeta deadpanned. He looked at his non-existent watch. "Well, look at that. Seems you have ten seconds left."

"You don't know how lucky you are to have Bulma as your wife. I hope you don't blow it-"

"Time's up," Vegeta cut in. "Your opinion has been heard, acknowledged, and ignored."

He then slammed the bathroom door shut in Yamcha's face. Leaning his back against the door, the prince winced a little as he tried massaging his temples. He had dealt with migraines often during his servitude under Frieza, mostly from his stress. With no painkillers and denied access to the tanks with an "imaginary ailment", he had no choice but to learn to ride them out. Through experience, he found that fresh air and absolute silence helped.

What was definitely _not _helping was his "conversation" with Yamcha. He waited until he felt the warrior leave, before he left the bathroom. Turning off the light behind him, he tried to ignore the words the other man had spoken.

It was easier said than done.

* * *

_Bulma-_

_Left for a short period of time to be alone. Trunks better not be in my bed when I come back._

_XOXO_

_Vegeta_

Bulma blinked a few times as she read the note taped onto her bedroom door later that night, and then couldn't help her smile. It was the first time she was seeing her name written in his handwriting, and she loved it. Quietly, she opened the door to peek in. She hadn't been near her bedroom all day, or she would have noticed this sooner. The room was dark, but she could tell that Vegeta wasn't there. Pursing her lips a little, she wondered where he had gone.

_Well, at least he let me know he'll be back soon, _she thought with a shrug, tugging the note off the door. Though Vegeta was still prone to taking off sometimes without saying where he was going, he had gotten better at giving her time frames for his returns. And the prince always adhered to the time frames he gave her. This was the first time he had written her a note though. The heiress smiled as she tucked it into her pocket for safe keeping.

A few hours later, Bulma was lying in bed wearing only an oversized t-shirt, watching Trunks on the monitor. Night three of the crib to bed transition, and so far, so good. Then again, it had only been about half an hour. Still, the boy had spent the entire afternoon horsing around with Goten. He had been so tired, he was falling asleep when she changed him for bed. Tonight might be the night.

She looked over when the balcony door slid open and Vegeta slowly walked in. Bulma slowly sat up a little, and frowned at the sight of him.

"Hey, you okay?" she asked, already sensing something was off with him. The prince nodded, slowly sliding the balcony door closed again.

"Headache," he grumbled.

"You want some aspirin?" Bulma offered. Vegeta shook his head a little. The worst of his migraine had passed, and it was nothing he couldn't handle now. He had done it enough times before, after all. Bulma leaned back down, watching as he slowly kicked off his boots, and then turned her attention back to the monitor. But Trunks hadn't moved from where she had laid him down.

"Is he in his bed?" Vegeta asked, leaning over to look at the monitor while undoing the belt on his beige khakis.

"Yup. He was so tired. I don't think he's going to get up tonight, but I won't jinx it."

Vegeta grunted, his hands loosely on his hips while he stared intently at the video monitor. The time started to stretch on, and he still didn't move. He barely noticed Bulma studying him. She bit her bottom lip, wondering what the man was thinking.

"Vegeta?"

"Hn?" He blinked a few times, coming out of his brief daze. He rubbed at his eyes as he turned away.

"You sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Of course. You're always fine," Bulma sighed.

Vegeta didn't respond as he pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside. He then slowly crawled into bed, not bothering to remove his pants or even get under the covers. Once he got to his pillow, he melted against the bed, sighing in relief as he laid on his stomach. He was grateful when she turned off the lights. It helped him physically, but it didn't help his maddening thoughts. The prince closed his eyes when Bulma gently started running her hand through his hair. She massaged his scalp lightly for while, and then finally settled her palm on the side of his face.

"You know, I've been meaning to ask. How come you don't grow any facial hair? Or any hair anywhere on your body? All you have are your eyebrows and this lion's mane of yours," she teased, affectionately running her hand back up into his hair, which was surprisingly soft to the touch.

"Some Saiyans had facial hair," Vegeta quietly responded, feeling calmed by her touch. "If it grew during adolescence, then it always remained. For some it grew, for some it didn't. That's what Nappa told me anyways. He had facial hair." He paused, and turned his head away from her. His tone was detached as he added, "So did my father."

Bulma wisely stayed silent, sitting up next to him. She moved her hands down to his back, and started to massage him. She could feel the rigid tension under her fingers, which was par for the course with him. Figuring this was the least she could do after putting him through tedious wedding planning over the last few weeks, she focused on helping him relax.

"You can talk to me, you know," Bulma finally whispered after a few minutes of silence between them. Her fingers were sliding underneath the back of his pants, lightly massaging him around his tail stub. His chest rumbled with a deep purr, and she smiled. "You don't have to if you don't want to, but I hope you know that you can."

"You don't want to know what goes on with me."

"Vegeta, we're getting married. I want to know everything that goes on with you."

"Hn. Masochist."

"Oh, yeah, look who's talking, bud," Bulma snorted. "Mr. Train Til I Pass Out. You have no room to talk."

He stayed silent for some time, save for the occasional low groan that would escape him as her hands worked his back. Finally, he forced himself to speak, and clear his mind.

"Are you certain that you want to get married?"

At once, Vegeta felt her hands stop. He wished he was looking in her direction, to see her reaction, but he didn't turn his head.

"Why? Do you not want to?" Bulma finally asked. Vegeta was grateful that her voice wasn't weak or filled with the sound of heartbreak. Then again, the woman was strong in spirit and will. He would never contemplate marrying her if she wasn't.

"I do want to," he said, his voice leaving no doubt. "I'm asking if _you _want to—if you're _sure_-"

"Of _course_ I'm sure! What, you think I said yes just to flatter your ego and wear this gorgeous ring? I don't think so, tough guy."

Bulma leaned back and pulled Vegeta to roll him onto his back. To her surprise, she met no resistance with Vegeta allowing the motion. On his back now, the prince looked up at her, his dark eyes filled with wary doubt as he tried puzzling out the female enigma leaning over him. He was no closer to doing so than the very first time he had spoken to her. Mostly, he was trying to understand what the hell she saw in him.

Bulma sighed when she saw that look on his face. It was like him to have something good, and then expect it to fall apart. She leaned down, resting her hands on his shoulders.

"Don't you see, Vegeta? I want you, in all your stubborn, arrogant, infuriating, brooding ways. I want you to be my husband, because underneath the man who used to apparently go all Hannibal Lecter, is a man who lets my dad's cat sleep on his legs."

"So you're telling me, that if I had kicked that stupid cat out of the bed last night, we would not be getting married?" Vegeta asked, amusement now bright in his eyes. Bulma smiled. She liked that look much better.

"That's _exactly_ what I'm saying," Bulma joked, leaning down for a kiss. Vegeta welcomed it, bringing one hand up to her face, relishing in her taste. They enjoyed each other for about ten seconds before Bulma pulled away, not wanting to rile him up. "You know what I mean. I love you, you jerk. Plus, you have a really cute butt, you know."

"Woman, you are so ridiculous," he sneered, rolling his eyes.

"You write 'XOXO' in notes to me. See, that's just swoon worthy, Vegeta."

Vegeta's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "I thought that was a way to sign off written messages…"

"Well, I suppose it is. But it's mostly used to mean, 'hugs and kisses'."

"…I'm going to murder your parents and paint this house with their blood," he angrily swore, thankful the lights weren't on so she wouldn't see his reddening face.

"Just don't do it before the wedding."

"Of course not. No one else will watch your demon child during our wedding night."

"Mmm, that's true."

She kissed his forehead and then moved over to lay down, yawning while she did. Reaching over, Bulma dimmed the light down on the video monitor where Trunks was sound asleep. She could hear the little boy snoring softly through the sound monitor.

Bulma was startled when she felt Vegeta press up against her from behind. He put his arm around her waist, leaning his forehead down against her neck, silently communicating what he could never get across in words. The prince never held her like this in bed – usually he only initiated sex, whereas she initiated every other type of physical contact. But Bulma wasn't about to complain. She wasn't a genius for nothing.

"Good night, Vegeta," she whispered, covering his hand on her stomach with her own.

Vegeta grunted in acknowledgement, his eyes already closed while he breathed in the scent of her shampoo. Despite things he said, and despite what Yamcha thought, he did, in fact, know exactly how lucky he was.

And he wasn't going to ruin what he had anytime soon.


	17. Kings and queens

**A/N: I know that some of you had requested I write more into this seven year period, and I admit that I was tempted because I have absolutely loved working on this fic. But I always envisioned this story ending here, with the end of this phase of Bulma and Vegeta's relationship. **

**Anyways. Many thanks for following my work this far. The support I've gotten has been wild, and I'm sincerely grateful for all of it! This story was the most I've struggled with Vegeta's character yet, so hopefully I did my favorite character a little justice. I also hope this last chapter is to your liking, and thanks again for reading. :)**

* * *

"Aw, shit," Bulma miserably groaned. She sighed and took a drink of her iced tea, as though the headline would disappear when she looked back at the magazine.

It didn't. There she was, smiling and radiant from a photo shoot from winning her Nobel Prize, right on the front page of _West City People. _Next to her was a dark silhouette of a man, with a huge white question mark over the silhouette. The headline over them read: _Who is Bulma Briefs' mystery fiancé? _

She had tried to keep things as private as possible, but someone had seen her engagement ring, and now the gossip was beginning. The heiress shook her head while she read over the article. Vegeta was probably the most private person she had ever met, and now everyone in the city wanted to know all about him. The last thing she wanted to do was have people recognize him from the Cell games. Things would only blow up from there.

Vegeta opened the door into the kitchen from the backyard, done with training Trunks for the day. His dirty and sweaty son immediately raced inside ahead of him. The little boy saw Bulma and visibly brightened.

"Mama!" he shouted, racing over to her. Before Bulma could even react, Trunks had already leapt on her, with enough strength to nearly make them both fall to the floor, chair and all. Vegeta immediately phased in and held Bulma's chair steady.

"Wow, you've still got a lot of energy for having trained hard, huh?" Bulma laughed, rubbing Trunks' back while he settled down into her lap. "Hm, someone is definitely going to need a bath before bed."

"That same someone is going to learn how to control his damn strength, if he knows what's good for him," Vegeta growled in annoyance.

"It's okay. Trunks is little, he doesn't understand-"

"He can already overpower you, woman. You're frail and pathetically weak in comparison to our son. The boy has to learn how to interact with you properly."

"Isn't Daddy so sweet when he worries about Mommy's safety, baby boy?" Bulma teasingly asked Trunks, who was playing with a pen on the table.

"…on second thought, let him kill you. See if I care," Vegeta snarled.

"I love you too, Vegeta," Bulma sighed.

"Hn. Stupid woman," he grumbled under his breath. He was about to leave the kitchen altogether, when he finally caught sight of the magazine spread out on the table. Frowning in confusion, Vegeta stepped up closer, looking down over Bulma's shoulder. "What the hell is this?" he demanded.

"What's what?" Bulma asked, preoccupied with trying to pull the pen out of Trunks' hand before he put it in his mouth and ruptured the thing entirely. Vegeta reached out and put his index finger on the magazine, drawing her attention back to it. "Oh. That. It's nothing, don't worry about it."

"What do you mean, it's nothing? I thought you said no one was going to know about this!" Vegeta yelled, snatching up the magazine to read more.

"Well, _SO-RRY, _your highness!" Bulma snapped, finally getting the pen out of Trunks' hands. "But I'm not perfect, you know! Someone figured it out, but it doesn't mean they're all going to line up to see us get married!"

"_Bulma Briefs, the genius heiress of Capsule Corporation and wealthiest woman on the planet, is breaking the hearts of men all over the globe. The beautiful Nobel Prize winner has reportedly been spotted wearing an impressive engagement ring, which is making everyone curious: who is the lucky man?" _Vegeta read aloud, before snorting in disdain. "This question should obviously be rephrased to, who is the unlucky bastard who has to live with a shrieking, annoying wench for the rest of his life?"

Bulma sighed, leaning her head back to stare up at the ceiling in exasperation. "You know, my mom always told me I should have dated the newspaper boy when I was a teenager. He was so cute, too. And so nice. But _nooo_! I had to fall for the most narcissistic alien in the universe-"

"_Is it former pro baseball stud, the rumored father of Bulma's son Trunks, Yamcha? Or what about other rumors that it's Mr. Satan?" _Vegeta stopped reading, leaned his head back and laughed loudly. "Are you lusting after that Satan fool behind my back, woman?"

"Are you kidding me? Satan and I got it on a _bunch_ of times when you left for space. Didn't I tell you? I wore a leather outfit, and had a whip. It was super kinky."

Vegeta's laughter abruptly died. His eyes narrowed dangerously. "That is not funny."

"It's a little funny."

"It is _not_ funny," the prince growled.

"Trunks thinks it's funny, don't you, sweetheart?" Bulma asked the little boy in her lap. Trunks looked back at her and smiled widely, and Bulma smiled back. "I thought so."

"You know what would be funny? Me blasting that Satan fool to bits."

"That _would_ be very funny, but we'd have to wish him back right away," Bulma laughed while she stood up. She lowered Trunks down to the floor, and then turned to the prince. "Look, Vegeta. This is what the paparazzi does. They always need a story and now they have one. Don't worry about it. It's not like you go out often for them to spot you and harass you. If anyone is going to start getting harassed about this, it's me. It was the same crap when I was pregnant, so I know how to play this game. We'll deal with this, but not right now. I'm getting married tomorrow, and I'd like to enjoy the moment without worrying about them."

"Hn. They're not going to be there tomorrow, are they?" Vegeta asked, scowling as he looked back down at the magazine.

"No one knows where we're doing this. And if by chance someone gets too close, you can sense them, so we'll just play it by ear. It'll be okay, really."

His scowl deepened as he looked back up to make eye contact with her. Bulma hadn't seen that murderous flash in his dark eyes in a while, and she didn't like seeing it again.

"Wait. What do you mean when you say they will start harassing you?" Vegeta threateningly demanded. "Did someone say something, or do something to you when you were pregnant? Because if they did-"

"No, hey, it's not what you're thinking, okay?" Bulma quickly clarified. She reached out and placed her hand between his neck and shoulder. The prince relaxed a little at the contact. "It's a little annoying, but I know how to deal with it. I can take care of myself when it comes to this stuff, so don't worry about it."

Vegeta stared at her for a few seconds, unaware of Trunks trying to climb up his pants, before finally nodding. Bulma did know more about this than he did; if she said she could handle herself, then he believed it.

He watched her smile, before she leaned in and kissed his lips. It was just a peck at first, but she soon tried deepening the kiss, wanting to taste more of him. The prince didn't allow it though, turning his head away. As the days slipped away, his control around the woman was weakening. She could get him aroused in seconds, sometimes without even trying. Without a payoff, it was best to avoid that happening.

"Only one more night," Bulma whispered in his ear, practically reading his mind. The prince reached up to the hand that was still touching him, and he let his fingers lightly run down her forearm to her elbow.

"Yes. One more night, then you're mine. You won't have a voice left when I'm done with you, woman," Vegeta growled quietly in her ear, sending a shiver of anticipation down Bulma's spine. It wasn't any easier for her to stop having sex with him, and there were definitely moments when she was sorely tempted to just say "fuck it" and jump the prince. This moment was one of them. It was a good thing Trunks was right there with them, or she didn't think she would last.

"I'm going to go get Trunks ready for bed," Bulma shakily said, withdrawing from him for her own sanity. One more night, she repeated to herself. Looking down at her son, she smiled at him. "Come on, let's go. We have a busy day tomorrow, so you need your rest. And you desperately need a bath."

"No!" Trunks whined, his eyes already filling with tears. "No bath!"

"I don't want to hear it, young man. Now let's go," Bulma ordered, not surprised when she saw Trunks take in a deep breath to start bawling. The tantrums were starting to creep up more often, especially when it was time for bed.

"Stop that this instant, boy!" Vegeta barked down at his young son when he saw what was about to happen. Trunks immediately forced his tears back, choking his sob down before he could unleash it. "Now go with your mother, and I _better_ not hear you the rest of the night."

Trunks pouted a little in defeat, but he slowly let go of Vegeta's pants and then walked over to his mother. Bulma raised an eyebrow when she saw that the tantrum had been neutralized before it even started. She shot Vegeta a smile.

"Thanks," she said, picking up her pouty son into her arms. "I'll see you upstairs?"

"I think I'll sleep elsewhere tonight," Vegeta grumbled. "For now, I'm going to train."

"Oh, okay. Well, try to get some sleep then."

Bulma flirtatiously blew him a kiss. The prince just rolled his eyes as he turned and walked out of the kitchen without a look back, while Bulma left in the opposite direction to tend to Trunks.

The butterflies were already starting in her stomach. Tomorrow was the day she had been waiting for, and it was going to be fantastic. It wasn't going to be a huge event – Vegeta wanted it to be family-only, and she had agreed on the condition that he wear his wedding ring for at least one month after the ceremony, and at least once a year on their wedding anniversaries. It hadn't been a trivial feat to convince the most masculine man she knew to wear "female jewelry", as he called it, but Vegeta had finally agreed, on the condition that he didn't have to help her pick out the rings. They had also nixed a reception or party afterwards per the prince's request, but only after he agreed to allow for photographs afterwards.

And so they had worked out enough compromises that they could both live with. Bulma was happy with that. She was more than ready for this.

She just prayed that he was ready too.

* * *

When the sun began to rise the next morning, only one person in Capsule Corp was awake – and his name was Trunks Briefs.

Trunks was perched on the window of his bedroom, having easily leapt up there. He had already figured out that if he moved about silently in his room without crying, his parents didn't come in to check on him. Unable to open the door (Bulma had secured it so it could only be opened from the outside, to keep her increasingly mischievous son inside his room), Trunks instantly set his sights on the window, easily leaping up there with no problems.

The window was closed and locked, but it easily gave out with one good push from the powerful toddler. Trunks smiled and slowly leaned out, looking down at the ground two stories below. He could easily jump down, but he didn't want to do that. He always jumped down from the roof. What he wanted to do, was climb up.

Several minutes later, Trunks was hanging off the edge of the roof with his hands as he slowly pulled himself up. The little boy was sweating profusely from his efforts, but he was fiercely determined to get on the roof. He finally swung one leg up. A very Vegeta-like look of triumph spread over his face. He was almost there-

"What the hell are you doing?" a very familiar gruff voice demanded from behind him. Startled, Trunks lost his grip, and would have fallen backwards right to the ground if Vegeta hadn't immediately grabbed him by the back of his onesie pajamas.

"Oops!" Trunks giggled as Vegeta held him up with one hand by his pajamas. Unbeknownst to the boy, his father was in tune with him mentally, and had woken up as soon as Trunks started climbing out of his window. Vegeta had just been curious to see what his son would do, and so he had simply observed. Now the prince glared at the boy in his grasp, which Trunks returned with a bright smile. "I love you, Papa!" Trunks chirped happily.

"Hn. Save the sentimental shit for your mother, since she actually falls for it," Vegeta scoffed. He levitated up higher in the air, and then unceremoniously tossed the boy onto the domed roof. "You wanted to get up here so bad, now stay up here."

He watched as Trunks slowly pushed himself up on his feet. It took him several seconds to find his balance, but when he did, he started doing laps around the domed roof, laughing happily while he did. If Bulma could see what was happening, she would have probably fainted. Vegeta, however, knew his son wouldn't fall, and so he went and took a seat on the edge of the roof himself, looking at the sunset.

Though Trunks had forced him out of bed, he hadn't slept well to begin with. For one, he wasn't used to sleeping without Bulma anymore, much to his chagrin. But worse than that, was the dream he'd dealt with all night, in which every Saiyan he could remember told him that he was a failure for lowering himself to marrying a human woman, and that he would shame them all if he went through with it. Hearing those comments was hard, dream or not.

Vegeta sighed, running one hand up through his hair in frustration. He reclined back until he was laying down on the roof, and he was falling deep into brooding thoughts when he felt two small hands on his arm. Vegeta lowered his hand and looked up, only to be met with Trunks' bright smile.

"Gooood morniiiiiing!" Trunks happily said in a sing-song voice.

"It is _not_ a good morning, boy," Vegeta growled. "Now get the hell away from me before I blast you off this roof and pretend it was an accident."

"Look! Look! Sun!" Trunks shouted excitedly. He pointed towards the sunrise, urging Vegeta to look. "Sun!"

Vegeta grunted with indifference, crossing his arms behind his head and closing his eyes. Trunks looked his father over curiously, and then decided to mimic him. The little boy slowly laid down, resting the back of his head against his father's stomach. Vegeta raised an eyebrow as he looked down at his son, which made Trunks look back at him with another bright smile. The prince might not have understood the love Bulma had for him, but he knew how a boy felt towards his father. He knew that too well.

Vegeta hesitated a second, before reaching down and putting his hand gently on Trunks' head. He supposed it didn't matter what others would have thought of his decision to marry Bulma. After all, his son was the only person with Saiyan blood whose opinion would ever matter to him now.

Later that day, Bulma was radiant with happiness. She was in her bedroom, which had been temporarily converted almost into a mini beauty salon, and she was surrounded by some of West City's best hair stylists. While her hair was being tended to, her nails were getting done in the best manicure that she could afford. Of course, none of them knew what the occasion was, and she wanted to keep it that way. Still, for all intents and purposes, she looked like a queen being completely pampered. She didn't care though. This was her day, goddamnit, and she was going to look fantastic for her new husband. And for the pictures, of course.

A few hours later, Vegeta was going to start getting dressed after having a late breakfast, when it occurred to him that his future father-in-law had yet to deliver the armor he asked for. Even worse, he had left his white boots in the closet of his bedroom. The prince had been forbidden to even enter that wing of the compound, since apparently Bulma had claimed it as the place where she would get ready. Not taking her warning seriously, he walked on into that wing anyways, heading straight towards his bedroom.

"Woman!" he called out, pounding on the door.

"You can't come in here, Vegeta!" Bulma yelled out. She cursed under her breath; she was right in the middle of beginning to get dressed, with her mother's assistance. She yelled again, "Damn it, I'm getting dressed!"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Vegeta yelled back, completely bewildered. How many times had he seen her in the nude? And yet she didn't want him to see her getting dressed? Once again, she was proving how insane she was.

"Don't you remember when I told you yesterday that you can't see me in my dress before the wedding?"

"Did you tell me this while I was eating? What did I tell you about giving me important information while I'm eating?"

"Well, SORRY that I'm not more interesting than your DINNER, Vegeta, but you still can't come in here!"

"Ah, true love," Bunny happily sighed, while zipping up the back of Bulma's dress. "There's nothing like it!"

"You can't tell me what to do!" the prince growled. He then opened the door, but he couldn't take a step before Bunny was suddenly right in his face. Vegeta flinched in surprise, looking at her warily.

"Now, dear, you can't come in while Bulma's getting ready. You'll just have to wait for now," Bunny brightly told him, even as she firmly pushed the Saiyan back with strength he hadn't expected.

"Wha-" he blinked a bit, but he was promptly met with the door closing in his face. Vegeta stood there, stunned almost beyond thought. Had that weak, idiot blonde woman really just pushed him out of his own damn room? He growled again, and banged harder on the door with his fist. "Bulma! I need my goddamned boots, unless you want me to do this stupid thing barefoot!"

A few moments later, Bunny cracked the door open just enough to slide his white boots out. Vegeta grumbled curses under his breath, and then snatched the boots from her grasp. He marched away, going back to his old room to get dressed. He groaned when he finally walked in and saw Trunks sitting on his bed, with Dr. Briefs sitting next to him.

"Where are the things I asked for, old man?" Vegeta peevishly demanded.

Dr. Briefs chuckled, gesturing towards the bed. "Just stopped by to drop it off, dear boy. It's all here."

The prince looked behind Trunks, and saw that it was true. But even though it was exactly what he had requested, he hadn't been prepared for the actual sight of it. It had been so many years since he had worn anything resembling royal attire…the last time was the day he learned about the fate of his planet and his father.

"If you're not happy with it, we can find you something else to wear, Vegeta," Dr. Briefs said, not knowing how to read that dark look on Vegeta's face. "My wife and daughter can take a long time to get dressed…there is still enough time for us to find-"

"No," Vegeta cut in, shaking his head. The prince blinked a few times, forcing his darkest memories back. He had requested the damn armor set. He could handle wearing it. "It's fine. I'll wear it."

"Are you sure? This is your day too, and-"

"I said I'll wear it."

Dr. Briefs nodded, and then patted the prince on the shoulder. "Alright. I'll take Trunks, and then we'll see you there?"

Vegeta didn't respond. Taking the hint, Dr. Briefs motioned for Trunks to follow him. The boy immediately hopped down from the bed and scrambled after his grandfather, dashing out ahead of him. Once they were gone, Vegeta went over to close and lock the door. He took a few seconds to himself, and then he started getting undressed.

* * *

"He's late, dear," Dr. Briefs whispered to his wife later that day. "That might be a bad sign."

He glanced around, making sure they were at the right location. Bulma had wanted to get married outside, and had found a clear, raised grassy plain with mountains in the distance that offered a beautiful scenic backdrop to the day. The sun was low in the sky, and there were lights and lanterns in the trees, which all gave the area a soft and mellow feel, courtesy of some well-placed phone calls on Bunny's behalf. No, they were definitely in the right location. Aside from himself, Bunny, and Trunks, a minister and a young photographer were waiting. And that wasn't counting the live musicians they had on standby.

"Oh, you worry too much!" Bunny giggled, waving off his concerns with one hand. "He'll be here." She had Trunks in her lap. The little boy was dressed in a mini tuxedo, but he didn't seem to mind. He was calm and reclining back against his grandmother, happily drinking a bottle of juice.

As if on cue, Vegeta finally dropped in from out of nowhere, completely startling everyone who wasn't related to the bride. There was little doubt that the man was of royal heritage, even to the humans who were seeing him for the first time. The prince was in his usual white boots and gloves, with his blue spandex pants, leaving his arms bare. His refined white armor was engraved with his royal family crest on the chest, and it was completed by the crimson cape fastened to the shoulders.

Vegeta coldly eyed the minister next to him, and then lined up where he had been instructed. He crossed his arms over his armor and waited. With his posture and the serious and intense look on his face, he looked more like he was waiting on the status of a purge instead of waiting to get married.

"Hi Papa!" Trunks happily shouted over at him. Vegeta glanced at him in acknowledgement, and then turned his gaze forward again with Trunks going back to drinking his juice.

"Well, I should probably go check on our daughter," Dr. Briefs whispered, before slowly getting up.

He walked out of sight, and Vegeta exhaled through his nose with impatience. He had assumed Bulma would already be present, and was more than a little unsettled to find that he had beaten her there. He could sense her nearby; why hadn't she appeared yet? They were already behind schedule as it was. The prince's first natural thought was that Bulma must have come to her senses and backed out. But that was impossible, he reasoned. She wanted this too. She had told him that many times. He just had to trust her.

Vegeta was startled when the musicians suddenly began to play. He gave them an irritated look, and then finally started to relax when he felt Dr. Briefs approaching with the bride. He snorted. Good. The sooner they started this, the sooner it would end.

All of his thoughts came to a halt though, when Bulma finally made her appearance with her father at her side. Vegeta felt his jaw go slack at the sight of her. Bulma had never looked more stunning than she did now, with her flowing white dress, which was strapless. She had her hair pulled back, and a modest veil that was pinned behind her hair and out of her face. It was her smile though which stood out the most. The prince unconsciously lowered his arms, trying not to make his staring obvious, but he had never been more captivated by a woman in his entire life.

"Hi," Bulma whispered to him as she came up to him, smiling at the sight of how handsome he looked in his royal armor. Vegeta finally snapped out of his daze, and that indifferent look was quickly back on his face.

"Took you long enough," he grumbled under his breath as she hooked her arm in his.

"You were the one that was late, you jerk."

"Couldn't be helped. Had to wallow in my pain and misery over getting married to you."

Bulma shot him a glare, and then rolled her eyes a little when she saw the playful smirk creeping on Vegeta's face. They both turned their attention back to the minister when the music finally stopped, except the prince was only somewhat listening. All day, he had been brooding over this process, but now, all of that was gone. Now, Bulma was here, standing with him. Her happiness was practically tangible. And if he was being honest, he wasn't feeling half bad himself.

Vegeta was barely paying attention to the boring speech the minister was giving, but suddenly, his senses picked up something in the distance. The prince looked away, scowling as he tried to place it. He squinted into the distance, trying to figure out who was out there, when the minister spoke his name.

"Vegeta," he said, getting the Saiyan's attention immediately. "Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you promise to be her faithful husband, in sickness and in health, for better, for worse, to love and to cherish, 'til death do you part?"

Vegeta listened carefully to each word, mulling over what he was being asked. This was the first time he was hearing these vows, and so he gave it a moment of thought. He scowled a little at the part that requested his love, doubting he had it inside him to ever feel such a thing. He also wasn't sure about cherishing Bulma, not knowing what that exactly entailed. But the rest, the rest he could definitely do.

"I do," the prince promised, smirking when he saw Bulma visibly relax after his thoughtful silence. He then listened as the minister repeated the exact same question to her. Bulma pretended to think about it for a few seconds, much to Vegeta's annoyance, before she smiled.

"I do."

"The rings?"

Vegeta heard Bulma's parents whispering to Trunks, and then the boy immediately squirmed down out of his grandmother's lap, dropping his bottle along the way. He snatched up the rings and then ran over to his mother, stretching up on his tip toes to give her the rings.

"Thanks, sweetie," Bulma laughed as she took the wedding rings from him. Trunks smiled widely, and then moved over to stand next to Vegeta, latching onto his father's leg.

The prince sighed, grumbling curses under his breath as he removed his gloves, handing them down to Trunks, who immediately sat down and tried putting them on. Vegeta looked down, staring at the simple golden ring in Bulma's hand impatiently as she slid it on his ring finger of his left hand. Because of her technical work, and his intense training, she had settled on personally engineering simple golden rings that could stand the test of time.

Vegeta frowned. How she had gotten his exact size was a mystery for the ages, but what caught his immediate attention was the engraved symbol on it. It matched the engraving on his armor. He knew that her name was engraved on the inside because she had told him that much, but she hadn't told him about the engraving with his family crest. Vegeta looked up at her, unable to keep the surprise out of his eyes.

"This ring is my promise to you that you'll never lose us." Bulma gave his hand a squeeze, smiling over his reaction to the ring.

He lowered his eyes and did nothing for a few seconds. Finally, he took the smaller, matching band from her. Vegeta took her hand and put her ring on, admiring it while he did. Pride swelled in his chest at knowing that Bulma had chosen the ring design. She respected his background, not as a soldier working for Frieza, but as the surviving prince of his race. It damn near made him smile.

"And I promise that I will always keep you and our son safe," Vegeta finally said, as they both cemented promises they had already made each other long ago.

"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Vegeta was normally strongly opposed to public displays of affection, especially in front of Bulma's parents. But Bulma had easily anticipated this, and so she made yet another compromise beforehand with her prince. Give the kiss now, and receive plenty of lessons in how other foods besides chocolate and ice cream can be included with sex. Just like she suspected, he had agreed, and so she watched him anxiously as he stepped forward. Vegeta forced himself to ignore everyone who was watching as he leaned in and kissed his new wife.

"You're stuck with me now, woman," he whispered against her lips a second later, a smirk spreading over his face. "How sad."

"Damn. You're right. That is very sad indeed," Bulma solemnly agreed, even though her eyes were sparkling. The musicians started playing again, and Vegeta turned in their direction. He scowled as he looked past them, into the distance. He focused for a second, tilting his head to one side, and then groaned.

"Shit."

"What?" Bulma asked, frowning as she tried following his line of sight. "What's out there?"

"People with taping equipment and cameras."

"Wha- oh you have got to be kidding me! The media's found us?" Bulma yelled out, her good mood vanishing.

"Not yet, but they will in a few seconds. Good thing we're leaving now."

Bulma didn't get the chance to respond before Vegeta suddenly scooped her up into his arms, and then they were gone. Suddenly terrified, the heiress latched her arms around his neck, but just as soon as his impressive speed started, it stopped. A gust of wind rushed over them as Vegeta finally came to a stop in midair. Bulma nervously took a peek down over her shoulder, swallowing a little when she saw how high up they were.

"Little warning next time, please," she weakly pleaded.

"There was no time. It was either escape or kill them all. Did you prefer the latter?" Vegeta snidely asked.

"Don't ask me that when I'm having a bad day," Bulma snorted, starting to relax. "But what about our pictures we were supposed to take?"

"The camera boy took some. I heard it. You can speak to him about it later."

"Oh my god, we left Trunks! We left him with that mob-"

"Your parents are there," Vegeta snorted, rolling his eyes. She was so dramatic sometimes. "Besides, the humans will soon disperse when they realize they were too late to get a glimpse of true beauty."

"…did you just call me beautiful?" Bulma beamed as her blue eyes brightened with love.

"I was clearly referring to myself, you hideous wench."

Bulma's smile disappeared, and she shoved his smirking face away. "You jerk, I am FAR from hideous and you know it! In fact, you should be doling out compliments on how nice I look! Other men would kill to have a wife that's as beautiful, smart, funny, outgoing, awesome-"

"Increasing your already unhealthy vanity was not in the vows, woman. How unfortunate for you. Now, tell me where the hell we're going," Vegeta ordered. He leaned in so that his nose was just under her chin as he whispered, "Don't try my patience, or I might just take you on one of these mountains until the sun rises again."

"I got us a reservation in North City," Bulma breathlessly replied. She was just as eager to finally have her time alone with her husband. "It's right along the beach. It's private there, and-" Bulma yelped in surprise when she felt that rush that only came with Vegeta's speed as he ascended to his Super Saiyan state. She clutched him tightly, burying her face against his neck.

"Here is the beach," the prince finally announced when he came to a stop almost half a minute later. He looked down at the deserted beach. There was no one else there since it was night now, and the air was getting cool. The water looked dark from his altitude.

"Shit, Vegeta! You can't just do that without telling me, you're going to make me sick," Bulma moaned against his skin, feeling nauseous.

"If you vomit on me, I swear, I will drop you into that water," Vegeta growled. He slowly descended down a little bit, his eyes scanning the area. "Where are we going?"

Bulma took a second to regroup, and then looked, studying where they were. She finally pointed to a tall, brightly lit, expensive looking hotel further down the shore, and then ducked her head before Vegeta could take off again. This time though, the prince leisurely flew over there. The last thing he wanted was for his new wife to get sick from going at the speed he usually flew at. He didn't think he could handle one more night taking care of his own needs, not with Bulma looking as gorgeous as she was.

"I checked us in yesterday so we didn't have to deal with it today. We're in the penthouse suite, and it's ours for the weekend. Here, on this floor. Oh, crap, I forgot the key!" Bulma groaned as Vegeta lowered them on the highest balcony of the hotel, his hair fading back to black. "Ugh, I'm going to have to go downstairs to the lobby after all-"

Vegeta easily broke through the handle to the balcony door, and slid it open. He walked on inside, while Bulma sighed behind him. He paid her no mind as he took in his luxurious surroundings. There was a whirlpool, a bathroom that was almost twice the size of theirs back home, a mini bar with a fridge, and an enormous plasma TV in the living room.

"Impressive," he relented, finally turning back to Bulma. He took a seat on the sofa, and was almost taken aback at how soft it was. "Hn. Let's live here instead, and leave our demon seed with your parents."

"It _is_ nice, huh? All the suites in this hotel are nice. This is the first time I've been in this one though."

"This is my first time too," he deadpanned, making her laugh. Vegeta casually raised one arm up onto the top of the sofa, giving her a slow once over and making Bulma's blood warm when his eyes lingered on her breasts.

"You know, I almost don't want you to get undressed," Bulma teased while she seductively removed the veil clipped into her hair, thoroughly enjoying how she had the prince's complete and undivided attention. He could say whatever he wanted about her looks, but she could see the truth in his eyes. As soon as she released the clip, her blue hair was freed, the loose curls flowing down while she added, "I like you with this royal look. I think it makes you look very handsome."

Vegeta absently looked away, shrugging a little. "This is very close to the original royal Saiyan attire that I had as a boy. This is what I would have worn on my planet when I finally took a woman as my mate and future queen. I thought it would be fitting attire for tonight, given the circumstances."

Bulma turned away so he wouldn't see her smile. To think she was worthy of such deliberation from Vegeta made her practically beam with happiness. She slowly focused on undressing with her back to him. "You never told me about mating, but if there's some kind of process, now would be the ideal time, don't you think?"

"Hn," he grunted, watching her hungrily. "It's nothing I can do with you."

"Why not?" Bulma huffed. "We're freaking married now! Don't you think I-"

"Bulma, it is not by choice. I literally cannot do it with you. To create that mental bond, you need telepathy and far more ki than you possess. The purpose was to share emotions through that bond, for protection. You could feel when your mate was in danger by feeling their heightened, distressed emotions, and then you could come save them," Vegeta informed her, repeating almost verbatim the words Nappa had told him decades ago.

"That's it?" Bulma asked, reaching back for the zipper hidden in her dress. Vegeta came up right behind her, and slowly brought the zipper down for her.

"That's it. Once that bond was made, that was it. It wasn't physically possible to do it with another. One time, for life."

She sighed, leaning her head back a little while she wistfully said, "I wish I could do that with you."

"Well, even though we cannot have that kind of mental connection, I do believe I agreed to stay with you for life," Vegeta whispered in her ear, gently pulling her dress down until it fell into a neat pile around her feet, leaving the heiress in her strapless white bra and matching silk underwear. He possessively snaked his arm around her stomach, holding her close to him. "In my opinion, that makes us mates. No one is alive to tell me any different anyways, and even if they were, I am the prince so I do as I damn well please."

"Well, I guess that makes me a future queen then, being mated to a prince." Bulma laughed when her husband suddenly lifted her up in his arms, making his way directly to the bedroom. "Man. I feel like a queen already," she teased as he gently laid her down on the king-sized bed moments later. "A queen for a sexy king."

Vegeta grunted, quickly growing tired of the conversation. He had thought about the ins and outs of this commitment for months. He was done thinking. What he wanted now was to ravish the beautiful female in front of him. The prince quickly pulled off his armor and the attached cape, carelessly tossing it aside.

"I will never be king, so do not worry about that," he mumbled, now in only his blue pants and his white boots as he started crawling into the bed.

"You're a king to me."

Vegeta had been slowly climbing on top of Bulma, but he blinked a few times at her words, stunned by them. He couldn't hide the emotion in his eyes as he looked down at her for a few seconds. When he remained silent, Bulma reached up to touch his face with her left hand. He could feel the cool wedding ring on his skin. There were no words he could say.

So he responded in a different way. Leaning down, Vegeta surprised her with a sensual and almost gentle kiss, a far cry from the overwhelming dominance he usually imposed on her. Bulma quickly found though that this was equally, if not more enjoyable. She pulled him closer, snaking her hand to hold onto the back of his neck.

Vegeta was supporting most of his weight on his hands, settled firmly on the bed on either side of her head, but he slowly leaned his body down completely against hers while they deepened their kiss. Bulma's heart rate sped up when she felt him slowly start rocking his hips against hers in rhythm with his tongue. She whimpered into his mouth when she felt how hard he was already, unconsciously arching up underneath him in a silent plea for him to provide the satisfaction she craved.

Their time apart was making this a more tantalizing experience than usual for both of them, but with his discipline, Vegeta somehow resisted the instinct to give in to her demand. Not yet. Tonight, he wanted to take his time and enjoy this. But more importantly, he wanted _her_ to enjoy this. He had given this woman endless amounts of reasons to leave him, to walk away and never look back, but she was still here. She deserved a memorable night for making him feel like a king for the first time in his life.

Vegeta broke their kiss, tilting her head back with one hand as his hot mouth explored the skin of her neck. Bulma's hand moved up into his hair while he slowly moved down. He snuck his hand underneath her back, unclasping her bra. Bulma bit back a moan at the dark look of desire on Vegeta's face when he finally freed her breasts of the confining material. How he could still look at her like that, even after all the times they had enjoyed each other, she had no idea.

His breathing was heavier than usual when he reached up to cup one of her breasts in his hand, getting reacquainted with her body. "Gods. So perfect," he huskily whispered under his breath.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Bulma breathlessly asked, making him raise his eyes to meet her bright blue ones. He smirked a little at the expectation on her face.

"Just from the neck down, so don't get too full of yourself," Vegeta teased, kneading her with his rough fingers.

"Bastard," Bulma nearly whined, trying to push herself closer to him. His fingers were wonderful, but it was his mouth that she wanted.

"I try," he chuckled, before lowering his head and latching his hot mouth to her breast, eager for a taste. Bulma grabbed onto his hair when he moved his hand down her stomach until it slid down underneath her underwear, his fingers expertly giving her what she wanted.

It only took minutes before he was drawing those delicious moans from his wife. Vegeta lifted his head, watching her as the sweat started to show on her skin. Unable to resist, he leaned down and captured Bulma's lips in a heated kiss, easily working her mouth open while his fingers worked her into a frenzy.

To the prince, it felt like only seconds passed before Bulma broke their kiss and screamed his name while she bucked underneath him. Without withdrawing his fingers, Vegeta knelt up completely and watched her through her climax, grabbing himself tightly through his spandex pants with his other hand so he wouldn't reach his own.

Bulma was sweating and shivering moments later when she felt Vegeta lay down next to her and take her left hand. He loved her hands, especially how soft and delicate they were for the hard work she did with them. But now, he admired the ring she was wearing.

"My name is inside this ring?"

It took a moment for her to recover enough to answer him, much to his masculine pride. "Your name and today's date."

"Hn."

"You like the rings?" Bulma asked expectantly, turning to look at him. He shrugged.

"They're decent. Hopefully this date isn't one you regret in the morning light though," he only semi-joked.

"Sweetheart, if I haven't regretted anything with you yet, I doubt it'll happen now…don't you dare take that as a challenge either!" she laughed, before turning on her side and moving closer to him. Vegeta let go of her hand and turn his complete attention back to her. She had rested enough, which was good, since he wasn't done with her yet. Not by a long shot.

Vegeta pulled up to her again, eagerly bringing his lips down to her neck. Their hands were lazily exploring the other's skin, both of them easily getting right back in the mood, with Bulma's hand wandering down to his pants. She pulled at the spandex at his waist, prompting Vegeta to reach down and pull off his pants completely before his impatient wife ripped a hole in the crotch. He finally kicked it off, knocking his boots off at the same time.

The prince slowly rolled Bulma back on her back, the scent of sex and sweat making it hard for him to think as he drank her body in. Equally impatient, he half pulled, half ripped her underwear off, and Bulma didn't mind in the least.

Vegeta settled himself between her legs, and leaned forward to taste her breasts again. Before he could though, Bulma reached up to him and took his face in her hands. The prince leaned down for a kiss, but he stopped when he saw the way she was looking at him.

"You won't regret this either, right, Vegeta?" Bulma finally asked, searching his eyes for the truth.

The prince stared back at her in silence, his features hard and unreadable. Bulma inwardly cursed, hoping she hadn't pissed him off with her question. They were so close. Going another night without having him was going to be excruciating, but she would never beg him if that was the route he wanted to take. Plus, she wanted to know that the man who had initially been so opposed to marriage, wouldn't reappear now that it was finally official.

After some time though, Vegeta finally leaned down and kissed her properly, easing her worries. He grabbed one of her legs and making her wrap it around his waist. Bulma relaxed, thinking this was his way of answering her question. She then forgot about her question completely when she felt him slowly – so very slowly – start to slide into her.

Vegeta grit his teeth, fighting the urge to start a frantic and hard pace as they both grew accustomed to each other again. Oh, it was tempting though. So damn tempting. He leaned his head back, stifling back a groan that started deep in his chest. Without a doubt, this was as close as he would ever get to paradise. Here, now, with his wife.

Bulma's resolve never to beg Vegeta for anything was crumbling fast as she arched up underneath him for more. But he remained still, torturing her by denying her that delicious friction that she so badly needed. If anything had been within her reach, she would have taken it and hit him with it. Finally, she reached up for her husband, and he obliged her, leaning down far enough so that his breath was right against her ear.

"Never," he finally whispered, surprising her by actually voicing an answer. "One time…for life."

"Til death do us part." Bulma wrapped arms around him to hug him close. He grunted his agreement. Once Vegeta saw that he had satisfied that need for her, he pulled back to begin satisfying other, more basic needs as they consummated their marriage.

The whole time, his words to her were on his mind. He meant them completely. The prince had lived a lifetime of regrets, but that was done now. This was a fresh slate, a new beginning for him and Bulma both. Vegeta genuinely had no idea what to expect from life now.

But he was definitely looking forward to finding out.

**The End**

**Post-Buu fic is up now. Check it out if you'd like... it's called "To Live Again". Thanks for reading!**


End file.

Dragon Ball Z, Family, Romance